


Psychic Singularity

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Gen, Mental Breakdown, Self-Harm, Transcendence AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Roughly two months after the events of the Scouring, Dipper...isn't dealing so well. And after a summons gone wrong, the entirety of Gravity Falls is trapped in Dipper's Mindscape, which has fractured. Now they need to gather all the parts of Dipper together that they can find and try to find some way to put their friend back together, or risk them all being trapped within a demon's mind forever.(ReadingThe Scouringis not necessary to understand this story.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been teasing this one for awhile now. It's not 100% complete as I post this, and I'm not sure about some parts, but I've teased long enough.  
> I'll be tagging at the beginning of chapters for their contents - if I miss something, please let me know in the comments and I will add the tag. (The self-harm tag in the summary is primarily for one chapter and doesn't come up in other chapters, but will be tagged for if it does in the beginning notes, for example.)  
> And on that note - this chapter contains Dipper's breakdown and the cause of the Singularity. So tag for panic attack, and mental breakdown.

Dipper Pines floated in the mindscape, watching his Flock as they grazed and ambled around the field he'd created for them. The Dreams, as usual, were close to two or three nightmares apiece, cuddled close to their sides and being nudged toward choice bits of energy, which in this part of the mindscape looked like wildflowers, ringed about by the nightmares.

 

Dipper himself didn't match the rest of the tranquil scene. He was curled into a tiny ball, arms wrapped tightly around legs pulled tight to his chest as he stared sightlessly over his Flock, his wings in constant flutter and ears twitching.

 

At the back of his mind he could feel his family's faint worry for him, and he couldn't blame them for it. Ever since the incident two months ago – which people were already calling 'The Scouring' for reasons beyond Dipper (a mass migration of that size wasn't something that could be ignored, and though the questioners had been kept away from the Pines family for now, and Gravity Falls in general, word was still leaking out about just what had gone down) – he'd been feeling...off.

 

It was like he was full of knives, an emptiness and heaviness to his stomach, slicing sensations every time he moved, jittery and unsettled, and he was trying his best to ignore any summons he did get.

 

He couldn't explain it. The physical wounds he'd gotten from it all had faded before morning (one of the very few benefits to his state) but inside, in his head...it was all shattered hurting tearing wrong wrong _wrong_.

 

Dipper knew the rest of the family had noticed, despite trying to keep it hidden. Mabel he'd never been able to hide anything from, even if all he could admit to her was that he felt...wrong, stretched thin, brittle and unsewn and ragged...and...and...violated.

 

That was probably the best word for it – violated. His powers, his sanctuary, his body...they'd tried to destroy them all. He wasn't sure why this time was so much worse than the other times someone had tried to use him, why he hadn't recovered yet, but he felt like he was teetering on the edge, and all it would take was one little push to make him fall, and he wasn't sure what waited for him below if he did.

 

Willow had taken to watching him out of the corner of her eye when she thought he didn't notice. He tried not to let her know he'd noticed, but Dipper knew he was worrying her even more than the rest of the family.

 

Not that that was a surprise – the others knew something was wrong, but they couldn't see how bad it was like she could.

 

It was bad enough Wendy was sticking around Gravity Falls, despite the fact that she'd been planning another excursion a week before the Alliance hit. She claimed she didn't feel ready to leave her hometown after nearly losing it (said in a careless, offhand fashion) but Dipper had seen her looking at him out of the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn't looking and knew by her colors why she hadn't left.

 

Even Pacifica had come back, Theo tagging along with his mother. They'd avoided the isolated mansion on the hilltop, staying instead in a little cottage they'd rented just outside of town and spending most of their time checking up on their chosen family and friends.

 

The kids were coming down every moment they could, and the was house packed full on the weekends, with some of Hank's mafia (that he refused to admit, still, was a mafia) staying throughout the week – some in town, some in the woods, and some in the Shack proper.

 

Which meant the Shack was currently more full than it had been in years, and they were probably all there waiting for Dipper to stop moping in the Mindscape, but he couldn't seem to make himself move just yet.

 

Even Stanford had come back to town when they'd managed to get a message through to him. The fact that it had affected the entire magical community of the United States and Canada helped in bringing it to his attention, so he'd already been on his way even before the message had come through.

 

The relationship between Ford, Stan, and Dipper was...rocky. Ford and Stan had at least had a little time during the lead up and aftermath of the Transcendence that (finally) forced them to actually talk to each other, to start to understand each other in ways they never really had.

 

Especially when they all thought Dipper had died to save them.

 

But sometimes, when Ford looked at Dipper, they all knew he saw flashes of the triangle that had tortured him, haunted his nights and tormented his days, nearly taken his family away and had, in irreversible ways, taken his great-nephew from their family. That sometimes, he almost fell back into thinking that Dipper was Bill, playing a long game of some kind.

 

Ford tried, he really did, he played D,D, & MD with Dipper when he was back from his trips around the world, happily wore the sweaters Mabel knitted, spoke with Stan, _tried._

 

But sometimes he would look at Dipper and they both knew he was afraid of the day Dipper would snap, forget Dipper Pines and be just Alcor and there were days where Dipper couldn't blame him. How many close calls had he already had, where he'd only barely come back to himself? How many times had he lost himself and done damage beyond repairing, no matter how sorry he'd been for it afterward?

 

But even if he sometimes couldn't be in the same room as Dipper, eyed Dipper with caution and fear when he thought no one could see, he still loved them. And so he came back when he was called, and he was trying to be supportive.

 

But still, sometimes Dipper wondered if Great-Uncle Ford had come back out of concern for their well-being...or concern that this was what would send Dipper over the edge to full demonic.

 

Probably a little of both, knowing Great-Uncle Ford.

 

And the biggest surprise, when they'd woken up two days after the dust had started to settle (and the news reports had begun to sort out just what had happened, why the supernatural of the continent had suddenly turned their attention to Gravity Falls, why all the magic went mad for a few crucial hours), the twins parent's had called, worried and frantic over the health of their children and grandchildren.

 

Because they may have been uncomfortable as hell with their new demonic son, and barely able to bring themselves to visit and see the evidence of it everywhere, couldn't fully trust him anymore, but they were still their kids, and just because Dipper was a demon now didn't mean they didn't love them, or him, anymore.

 

Mabel didn't tell them everything – Mabel had stopped telling their parents everything the summer they first went to Gravity Falls. Now...well, she didn't tell them much, just enough so they had a better idea of what had happened than the confused stories the media was reporting without quite letting them know how bad some parts of those forty eight hours had gotten.

 

And, well, by this point their parents had decided it was better if they didn't know all the details.

 

It seemed like a bit much, when they were still doing this so long after it all went down, but...

 

Dipper sighed heavily. Everyone meant well, and they were worried for him and each other after coming so much closer than before to losing everything, closer than they'd come since the Transcendence itself, but it didn't make it easier to bear. He wished he could reassure them, but – what was the point of having all this power if he couldn't fix himself? Couldn't protect himself, his family, let them be hurt like that? The one thing he thought might do some good out of the whole mess, and he hurt them again with it.

 

What good was he if he couldn't protect them?

 

He felt the tug of a summoning, strong enough that he doubted the answering machine (which he'd been sending to all his summonses since...well, since two months ago) was going to be enough to keep him from being pulled to it.

 

With a groan, he floated to his feet and let himself be pulled away. With any luck he could get this over with quickly, and maybe work out some of this confusion, or work off some frustration.

 

* * *

 

Why. _Why_. Why did these summoners have to have religious paraphernalia _everywhere_?

 

He'd sensed them, as soon as he'd appeared in the circle, and though he'd tried to ignore the crosses hung around the walls, usually meager protection against him, their presence was a burning reminder of recent events, nagging at the edges of his mind, impossible to ignore.

 

The summoner in front of him, one of three, was talking, but they were hard to hear over the buzzing in Dipper's ears, and he couldn't focus on them, his eyes sliding back to the crosses over and over again, and he tested the circle's strength cautiously.

 

It was _strong_ , too strong for comfort, and how where was...was this a church? It _was_ , they were in a _church_ and it was a strong circle and...

 

There was a sharp _crack_ from one of the summoners, a snap of something Dipper didn't know what didn't care as their voice faded, replaced with

 

Wood chains a cross a _cross_ it _burned_ and Willow Willow was screaming and

 

_Shall we see how much a demon can take?_

 

Gideon's face gleeful as he rose the whip

 

taste of metal and leather _That's a good look for ya_

 

Pain _pain_ can't get away _get away get away get away f_ _r_ _o_ _m me no_ _ **no NO**_ _this wasn't happening couldn't be happening have to save them no please it hurts can't let him win can't get free HenryMabelAcaciaWillowReinaStan he'll hurt them hurting me_

 

_Hate hate anger no_

_no no_

_can't breathe can't no bill no stop him_

 

 _tearing ripping it hurt hurt he was being torn apart soul torn in two he couldn't no no_ _**no** _ _he had to get out of here get home HOME please please_

 

With a screech Dipper fled, diving through the mindscape back towards Gravity Falls, leaving the circle a bloody, smoking wreck behind him.

 

* * *

 

Mabel nearly dropped her knitting (Dipper needed a new sweater, she'd decided, something warm and soft and comforting, and she still hadn't found anything softer than Dream wool, and it might not help but it was something she could do while she thought, one thing she actually could do to try and help) when Dipper tore into existence with a tearing noise and a flail as unlike the gentle _blip_ and odd grace that usually accompanied his entrance as possible.

 

He dove under the covers of the bed Mabel was sitting on, and she could hear him panting in harsh, gasping breaths.

 

In an instant she had pitched her knitting across the room, rolled off the bed and sought her brother under the covers in all one motion. Dipper didn't _need_ to breathe anymore, so why was he gasping like that?

 

He'd already gotten himself tangled in the blankets by the time Mabel had gotten up, and she had to tear at them to find her brother.

 

She started to really worry when she found him, curled into a tiny, tight ball, wings wrapped around himself as he rocked. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears slipping down his cheeks and fingers locked around his arms so tight blood was beginning to well around his claws, soaking into his suit.

 

He was chanting, whispering something to himself over and over, soft and broken and so distorted Mabel couldn't make it out.

 

“Dipper?” she whispered, raising a hand before lowering it to the bed again. As much as she loved and trusted her brother, if he was as freaked out as he seemed, he might just strike first and feel guilty later if someone touched him right now.

 

“Dipper, c'mon bro-bro, can you hear me?” she coaxed. It'd been a long time since Dipper had seen anything to make him freak out, but she couldn't forget what it was like when he did. This seemed...different, worse, and he couldn't seem to hear her, still rocking in place and taking shuddering breaths in between muttered, distorted words.

 

If anything, he seemed to be getting _worse_ the longer he sat there, not better. Not taking her eyes off her brother, Mabel slipped off the bed and backed to the door, leaning out backwards. “Henry?! Grunkle Stan? Something's wrong with Dipper!”

 

Her brother curled in tighter on himself when she yelled, and Mabel winced.

 

Footsteps pounded on the stairs, and Mabel relaxed at the sound of backup, only to stiffen again as Grunkle Ford came around the corner.

 

Great Uncle Ford and Dipper...well, they respected each other, and Mabel knew they loved each other, but...Ford was paranoid, Dipper was a demon now, and well...they got along, and they could enjoy each other's company for hours on end, but most of the time it was best for both of them to keep some distance.

 

Yes, Ford loved him, loved him so very much, believed that some part of his great-nephew was still the same giant nerd, but...he was always waiting for the other shoe to fall, for Dipper to lose the fight against the part of him that was demon and lose himself to it...when he wasn't blaming himself for this happening to Dipper.

 

Great Uncle Ford still had that fear that sooner or later Dipper wasn't going to come back to 'himself', that the Dipper they all knew was a front for what he really was now underneath, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was only Dipper.

 

He was worse than their parents, in a way – they'd tried to hide it at least and hadn't carried around crosses and holy water around with them until Stan found out and read them the riot act (which had been epic and lead to Ford hiding in the basement for a month before apologizing, explaining and talking it out before he left on his boat again, but still. Dipper didn't need that.).

 

But it was too late, Great Uncle Ford was already there, reaching into one of the many pockets he added to all his clothes, eyes scanning Mabel's face frantically. “What happened?” he demanded. “He finally snapped, didn't he?”

 

And with that Mabel regretted ever letting Ford hear about Dipper's weaker moments. Yes Dipper had acted demonic before, but he'd always come back to himself sooner or later and tried to fix things.

 

“No, that's not – Wait! Great Uncle Ford, no!” she cried as her great uncle barreled into her bedroom.

 

Dipper shot off the bed as their great-uncle stormed the room, back to the wall and hissing, wings arched defensively as he crouched, almost like a cat trying to make himself look bigger.

 

“Grunkle Ford, stop! You're just making it worse!” Mabel pleaded, grabbing her great-uncle's arm. “He's scared and having some kind of meltdown, you gotta stop!”

 

Even from where her great-uncle shoved her behind him Mabel could see how her brother still crouched, arms bleeding, face covered in tears, not really seeing either her or Ford as he panted, eyes darting around the room for a way out, as if he was seeing something completely different than the comfortable, colorful bedroom Mabel and Henry shared.

 

Great Uncle Ford was watching Dipper, too, warily, waiting for the demon his great-nephew had turned into to turn on them. He shoved Mabel a little farther behind him even as she continued to protest and fight to get by him, back to the creature that used to be her brother.

 

“I was afraid this would happen,” Ford muttered, reaching into one of the hidden pockets of his coat. Stan may have taken most of his weapons, but he hadn't survived as long as he had without learning how to hide extras. “I'm sorry, Dipper. This is for your own good.”

 

He brandished the small bottle of holy water, and the creature that used to be his great nephew hissed.

 

Footsteps pounding on the stairs let Ford know time was running out before the rest of the family got there and tried to stop him, convinced as they were that it was still Dipper and not a demon pretending to be the boy.

 

He threw the vial of holy water, knowing it was probably hopeless but he'd go down fighting to protect his family – even the parts of it that could no longer control themselves.

 

If Dipper was still in there, he'd thank him for protecting their family from him.

 

The bottle shattered as it hit the ground, spraying Dipper with water and glass even as Stan and Henry slammed into Ford from behind, knocking them all to the floor.

 

Dipper screamed and everyone else froze, heads snapping to look at him. His eyes glowed, and for a second he crouched there, hands halfway to his face, looking at them with fear, incomprehension, and horror.

 

The next, it felt like everything shifted sharply to the left while somehow still staying still, and everyone lost their balance, tumbling across the floor.

 

When they recovered and looked up, Dipper was gone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mabel was the first to struggle to her feet, as her husband and grunkles were still tangled up with each other on the floor, slowly fighting their way free as she scrambled up.

 

She could hear the kids downstairs, Willow and Hank and Vivi crowding around the bottom of the stairs and calling. Counting on having a minute before they came upstairs, she tried to feel out for Dipper. The bond from her to him was weaker than him to her, but usually she could feel him, and pull on it to get him to come home.

 

She felt out and...nothing. She couldn't feel anything from her brother, at all, not the faintest hint of where he was or what he was feeling, and that never happened, not unless...

 

Hoping he was just shielding from her, she started downstairs, brushing past her Grunkles, who were now on their feet and glaring at each other, though thankfully not fighting yet.

 

Usually she'd try and do something about that, but Henry gave her a sigh and a nod as she looked at him, letting her know he'd take over this time. She gave a half smile and hurried downstairs, knowing if she stayed upstairs she'd get distracted trying to help.

 

“Your uncle's having a freak out, your great-great-uncle threw holy water at him and he disappeared, normal day in the Pines house,” she called to her kids as she hurried past them into the kitchen.

 

Hank tossed her the lancet he still carried in a pocket as she passed by and she tossed her son a salute over her shoulder.

 

The kids followed, looking back up the stairs with worry, Willow with a wince. She hurried forward and Vivi slung an arm over her shoulder, putting herself between her sister-to-be and the men upstairs.

 

Mabel was already smearing a drop of blood on the summoning circle she'd sketched out quickly in the kitchen when they stepped through the doorway. “Where the flip flop are you Dip-dop?” she called. “C'mon back and talk to me.”

 

They all had a moment of unwelcome surprise as the answering machine popped up – the answering machine that Dipper _never_ sent family to, not even during the Scouring, when he couldn't answer.

 

And...it was wrong. The star, usually bright and shining, was ragged and dim, flaring and pulsing sickly colors erratically. Mabel's cheerful handwriting spelling out “Please Wait, Alcor Shall Be With You Soon,” in purple glitter glue was missing, replaced by angry, jagged, ragged, bloody letters spelling out “Alcor Isn't Coming.”

 

And instead of launching into the recording of Mabel's cheerful covers, the star ground out, like an old phonograph on slightly the wrong speed, scratchy and distorted: “I’m sorry, your summoning can’t be taken at this time, since I am having a mental breakdown. Thank you for your time. If you continue to insist, I’ll have no choice but to D̙̯̖͚͎̯͇̠̒̆ͧ́̇̾́̎ͅE̷̢̤͕̣͈̥̦͓̗͖͂ͬ͂V̶̟̲͈ͮ̑̋̍͌̎O̬̺͓̭ͦͭ̇͂̓͂͝Uͦ̋̑̇̾ͪ̊ͪ͏͕͎̭̪̟R̴͓̯̲ͣͭͅ ͖̻̮̣̝̭̍̓ͬ̓ͨ̐͂͡Ÿ́ͨ͐͝͏̘̬̰̱͍̯ͅO̟̼̮̙͍̲̅͒͘Uͦͤ̓͆̐̍̈́͝͏̷̤̞̗̮̙̱͓R̡̺̥͐͊ͣ͠ ̨̥̦͓̮̜͇̋ͪ͘S̠͍̰̬̜̜ͧ̆͘ͅǪ̴͉̞̞̤͉͚̓̉U̡̘̩̯̫͔̅̾̿̔́̔ͮ̚Ḻ̸͙̽̒̇͡S͙̠͎̝͎̠̽͌ͣ͘ͅ . Thank you for calling Alcor for your deals. Buy gold.”

 

The answering machine shattered into a thousand points of light, disappearing as the four Pines stared at it in silent shock, looking at each other with wide, horrified eyes.

 

Mabel ran to the door and wrenched it open, freezing in the doorway as she looked out over the forest.

 

The colors were... _wrong_. Faded and muted, heavily shaded with grey, like she'd been catapulted into the Mindscape and stopped halfway. But unlike the Mindscape that Mabel had seen when she was twelve, unlike the Mindscape she'd seen when her brother took her to visit the Flock in their home, it wasn't all grey monotone - there were still parts of the lawn, of the trees, the sky, with colors so vibrant and saturated and bright they edged into neons

 

But outside, Mabel could feel a faint tug, one she recognized as Dipper. It was very faint, fading in and out, and confused, almost as if Dipper were in a dozen places at once.

 

Even as Mabel watched, the landscape shifted, two layers overlapping before snapping back into place, and she had the definite feeling she should get everyone into town – and fast.

 

She eased back into the house. Still holding the door open, she twisted to look at her kids. “Call everyone still down here,” she told Hank seriously. “Tell them to meet us in town. Vivi, Willow, you two grab the essentials. I'm going to go break up the old men and get us into town. Something bad's happening.”

 

* * *

 

The Rainbow Basher was frostily silent on the way into town, despite having four people in it. (Hank, Willow, and Vivi were following behind in Henry's truck, and Acacia and Reina were in their car, as there simply wasn't room for everyone in Rainbow Basher when all of them were back in town. Not with everyone being so emotional, and Willow had sought out her siblings to offset her G-grunkles anger with each other.)

 

Finally, Ford sighed. “I know you're angry with me,” he said quietly. “I'm...not around Dipper as much as you are. I don't know how you react when he's like that, but he wasn't himself. I just wanted to protect everyone, Stanley. I thought I was doing the right thing. I preferred having you mad at me for it than Dipper hurting our family. We both know he'd never forgive himself for that.”

 

Stan didn't respond to that, but he did relax, and the twin-related tension in the car eased.

 

* * *

 

They drove into chaos. The colors on the way to town were the same as what Mabel had seen from the door of the Library, but they were even worse in town, grey and too-colored splotches all over everything, as if paint remover had been thrown over everything in sight.

 

The whole trip, there were...things, peering at them from the trees, that seemed strangely reluctant to be seen, avoiding the cars...or perhaps avoiding the Rainbow Basher and the people inside the cars.

 

Not so in town. Dark, spindly things roamed the streets, tall, tall creatures made of black threads, sketchy like pencil scribblings come to life, some with legs that were taller than Mabel whittling down to pinprick points on all four legs, some with large, broad paws or hooves, too many glowing eyes watching any living thing that passed set over mouths of jagged, sharp sharp teeth and long tongues that reached oddly shaped heads set on spindly necks towards the unwary.

 

* * *

 

Grenda was holding them off from behind a hastily erected barricade in front of her pet store/sanctuary with the aid of a few of the more territorial animals and her husband, Marius, who was lobbing pet toys with remarkable accuracy if little help save to stun them, while Candy was taking them out with precision from next to them in front of her weapons shop (Blades, Bombs, and Bazookas).

 

And everywhere roamed the dark creatures, mostly the too tall, stretched thin things, but roaming among them were packs of things that looked like a cross between shadow, wolf, and greyhound, long and gaunt and with too many joints in their too-long limbs and with long muzzles full of far too many vicious teeth.

 

Dipper's Flock was there too, though not nearly as numerous as the creatures, fighting back against them.

 

Lazy Susan was smacking one over its over large head with her broom, and two of Dipper's Flock were suddenly there, tripping the thing and biting, consuming it in a bloodless frenzy even as it screeched and tried to rise.

 

The Dreams were clustered behind Grenda and Marius, with most of the nightmares clustered around the shop to protect them.

 

Mabel punched the gas and ran over one of the creatures in front of Grenda's shop, and it exploded in a cloud of dark sparkles, blowing away like dust.

 

The bite marks on the barricade around Grenda and Candy's shops said that the teeth they were sporting were real enough to do damage, though, even if they dissolved with a hard enough blow.

 

The car and truck skidded to a halt outside the shop, and the Pines piled out and were immediately dragged behind the barrier by demonic sheep as others pulled Lazy Susan into another building.

 

“What's going on?” Mabel called over to Candy and Grenda, wincing but otherwise ignoring another monster the Flock took down, preceded by the sad _squeak_ of another chew toy impacting with its head.

 

“Were hoping you would know!” Candy called back, relaxing slightly but keeping her eyes on the road as the Flock took down the last creature currently in sight.

 

“Yeah!” Grenda said loudly, turning from her barricade and softening her voice as she began herding dreams and animals back into the shop. “One minute everything's normal, then all that happened,” she added, waving a hand behind her at the street, encompassing its odd colors and odder occupants, who were dissolving faster than the Nightmares could eat them, though they were still getting their fill.

 

“Have not been able to call anyone yet,” Candy called from her barricade. “Too busy.”

 

Henry and Hank were already pulling out their cell phones, though neither looked hopeful. “No signal,” Henry said a few seconds later, Hank nodding grimly as he held up his own dead phone.

 

Stan was crossing the store as they took out the phones, dodging critters as he went in a dance that would have the kids and Mabel laughing under normal circumstances, shooing a teacup hippogriff and tinier griffon off the desk.

 

“Normal phones are out too,” he said a few seconds later, not sounding as if he'd expected anything different.

 

“It feels like the mindscape,” Willow said after a few seconds of everyone's silence, closing her eyes to 'feel' it better, “kind of. And kind of like Uncle Dipper.”

 

“Well, probably not another attack, then,” Henry said with some relief as Vivi helped Grenda and Marius round up the last of the animals and herd the Dreams toward the Nightmares. “What was going on with Dipper? I mean, I couldn't really see...”

 

Mabel sighed. “Dipdop was having some kind of crises. Dunno about what, I couldn't understand him. Then Grunkle Ford kind of overreacted, and then...” she gestured behind to the town. Behind them, Ford winced but didn't protest.

 

“Then this is...not normal, even for here?” Marius asked, speaking up for the first time. He spent his time between Austria and Gravity Falls, so he tended to need a day or two to re-adjust to some parts of the Falls, and sometimes...

 

The rest shook their heads, and Marius crossed his arms. “Did not think so. Still, gives solution, yes? We must find Dipper and speak with him. Convince him to change things back.”

 

There was an uncomfortable pause and they looked out at the street as another creature sped by. “Have any of those...” Hank asked, trailing off and tilting his head toward the creature.

 

Candy hefted her gun meaningfully, and the Pines made varying noises of frustration and distress.

 

“Right. First off, get everyone safe,” Mabel said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Next, find Dipper. Then, help him, which should get things back to normal.”

 

“Mabel...” Ford said, looking like he was searching for the words, never to be spoken as Mabel spun to face him, finger honed through raising three kids and dealing with a demon brother at the ready.

 

“No! Great Uncle Ford, _I get it_. Really, I do. Dipper's _not_ safe, but we can trust him! I know this looks bad, but...” she paused, surprised at the sudden surge of tears that threatened to burst out, “but he needs us to trust him! This...we're the only people that do, and we're the only ones _he_ can trust! So you've got to stop waiting for him to turn on us and accept that he's still Dipper! Our _parents_ stopped trusting him, us turning on him is just making it worse!”

 

Great Uncle Ford stammered, groping for words, and Stan intervened, glaring at his brother, though for him, it was a pretty mild glare. “We don't have time for this, sweetie. We'll talk it out later, but we gotta find your brother now.”

 

Mabel took a deep breath, Henry's hand landing on her shoulder comfortingly, and nodded. “Right. Um...”

 

“The community center worked well a few months ago,” Hank commented. “We could keep everyone safe there.”

 

“If they're willing...” Vivi muttered, before shaking her head, “Of course they will, they're from Gravity Falls,” she corrected herself. “So. How do we get them all there?”

 

Mabel brightened. “Leave that to Mabel!” she cheered. “Dipper and I figured out stuff about the Mindscape before. Now, let's see...” she said, closing her eyes, massaging her temples as she thought fiercely.

 

With a puff of glitter, creatures appeared in front of Mabel. They were shaped like kittens, but with dragonfly wings and little unicorn horns, and when they mewed at each other, their mouths were revealed to be full of longer fangs than should have been possible. Their fur was in shades of day-glo neon, and when one sneezed, a laser beam shot out into the street from its eyes.

 

“Go tell everyone Mabel says to meet at the community center!” Mabel ordered them, pointing out at the rest of Gravity Falls. “Fly, my pretties! Fly, fly!”

 

Stan and Ford exchanged nervous and mildly amused glances before remembering that they were upset with each other (again) and turning from each other awkwardly. Henry, the only one to see the interplay, sighed and smiled before joining everyone else in egging Mabel's creations on.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully the community center wasn't far from where Grenda and Candy had set up shop, as Grenda refused to leave her animals without protection or a definite source of food for an unknown period, which meant they all had to come with.

 

And, of course, given the circumstances, it was rather foolhardy to leave behind _all_ of Candy's stock.

 

Also thankfully, between Grenda's van, Candy's beat up truck, the Pines' truck, the spacious bed of the Rainbow Basher (whose embossed summoning circle was pulsing an angry, muted red, one that the Nightmares and Dreams both avoided looking at), and Marius' limo, parked behind the shop, there was enough room to transport all the weapons, humans, and animals combined, even if it was a tight fit.

 

The Dreams piled in around Mabel, the Nightmares clustered around the Rainbow Basher and the rest of the cars trailing it as a fluffy, demonic guard for them all as they inched their way to the community center.

 

Acacia and Reina, with a few nightmares, peeled off in their car to find their Aunt Pacifica, Uncle Soos, and Aunt Melody along with their cousins and make sure they made it.

 

“Sorry you didn't stay in Austria yet?” Willow teased, elbowing her Uncle Marius lightly and trying to distract herself from the wildly fluctuating colors outside.

 

He grinned at her, the soft, fond smile he seemed to reserve for family. “If I wanted boring I would not have married my Grenda,” he said lightly. “It is still better than another dinner with aristocracy.”

 

They pulled up in front of the community center and started unloading, the Flock keeping an eye out for more creatures as the citizens of Gravity Falls started trickling in.

 

It was hard to describe their relief when Acacia and Reina finally pulled up in front of the building, towing along Pacifica, Theo, and the Ramirez family.

 

Henry pulled them off to the side after the worried greetings were over to catch them up to current events as the rest of the family kept urging people inside.

 

* * *

 

Mayor Tyler arrived with Wendy and the rest of the Corduroy clan as the last people made their way into the center.

 

“Whew,” he said, climbing out of the overlarge jeep. “That's the last of them.”

 

“Tyler-dad wouldn't come until everyone else was here,” Wendy told the Pines quietly, jutting a thumb back over her shoulder at her family, who were making their own way in. She started walking after them, absently accepting a secondary ax from Candy to go with the rest of the weaponry strapped on her belt and across her chest. “Since this is another supernatural thing he asked me to tell you guys to take charge. Seems to think you've got a better idea of what's going on than the rest of us.”

 

Mabel frowned, and after a brief conference the Nightmares herded one of the Dreams closer. Mabel managed a little smile for them, picking the tiny thing up and burying her face in its soft, clean smelling wool.

 

After a few moments she raised her face. “You could say that,” she said, still holding the lamb as she and her family walked toward the stage where Mayor Tyler was telling everyone what he knew and turning the town over to the Pines family.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The town of Gravity Falls was torn when Mabel finished her story of what had happened so far that day.

 

There was sympathy that Dipper was suffering, but there was anger, too, that he was dragging them into it, even if he was apparently unwilling and unconscious of doing it.

 

And beneath the anger, ran worry, for themselves and for Dipper, that only made everyone more anxious, angrier and more afraid.

 

They were arguing amongst each other about what to do and what was going on as soon as Mabel had finished, getting louder by the minute and ignoring the Pines.

 

One of the Flock butted against Mabel's side, and she stumbled into her daughter's side with an 'oomph'.

 

Most of the Flock (and there were a lot of them now, more than Bill had ever had, and it was looking like he was going to have more than any demon before, according to a mostly proud, slightly worried Dipper) were moving to line the walls and cluster around the weakest points of the building, while a smaller cluster stood nearby and watched the Pines family (and adopted family) with worrying intensity.

 

Thanks to Dipper being, well, Dipper, his Flock of nightmares was quite different at this point from most – and if nothing else would have proven it, the fact that they were here, now, willingly volunteering information and protecting things their master held dear without being ordered to do so but because they cared, did.

 

After a second Mabel recognized Groknar the Destroyer, one of Dipper's first sheep, with Fluffernutter (who seemed to be particularly fond of Mabel) hovering just beside the larger Nightmare.

 

Groknar “baaa”-ed softly, waiting until he was sure he had their attention before “Baaa”-ing again, this time for longer, like he was trying to speak.

 

When the Pines extended clan continued to look at him in blank incomprehension, Groknar glared at Fluffernutter, who was laughing at him. Groknar rolled his eyes and for a moment the ones paying attention to the Flock had the sensation of a radio being tuned to a new station.

 

It was disconcerting, but not quite as much as when Groknar opened his mouth and began to baa again, but this time, it seemed to translate somewhere between his mouth and their ears.

 

“T̵his f͡ig͡h͢t͢in͝g͞ ͜i͘s ̡g҉et̷ti̸n̨g ųs ņo͟whe̶re. ̧We ̧ne҉e̶d͠ t̶o fi͠nd ͢o͠ur͘ ̷Ma͟stȩr.͠ ”

 

The shock of hearing Groknar and understanding him didn't last long, though Ford looked like he wanted to know more about how this was happening, hands twitching as he stared at the sheep.

 

“You know what happened to Dipper?” Mabel asked quickly, dropping to her knees to grab Groknar's horns, the Dream leaping down from her arms in a hurry. “Tell me, tell me what's going on!”

 

Groknar gazed at her solemly despite the grip she had on his horns. “W͘e̢ _kno͜w̵_ ҉what̶ h͡as̴ ͟h̛appen͞ed̴ t͢o͜ ̶th̷e͠ ͟M̷a͝ste҉r͡, b̨u̷t͞ wę d͝o ̷not ̛ _un̡d̡e͘rs͏tand͞,_ ” he said, and there was a note of pleading to his 'voice'. “A͘nd ̧w͘e̶ do̶ not ͟know ͠how ͠to̢ ҉h̨elp̷ ͜him͘, ͢but w͘e͢ ͝must. H͏e̴ ̴nee͜ds ̵us. ”

 

“Just tell us,” Henry said, laying a hand on Mabel's shoulder to ground his wife, who was near vibrating with urgency. “We can't help until we know what's going on.”

 

Trust Henry to stay calm, outwardly at least. His family were the only ones able to pick up on his subtle little tells that said clearly as a shout that he wasn't nearly as calm as he seemed, even as Groknar looked at him gratefully.

 

The rest of the town was quieting, the silence rippling outward from the Pines as more people noticed the Nightmare speaking, going silent and straining to hear what was being said.

 

“H̕e h̢as̢ n̷o̢t ҉rec͏over͞e͢d͜ f͝rom͠ t̸h̡e ̵last̴ a͘t̴tąck,” Groknar said, “a͟n̵d h͞i͜s̸ ̛pa̕i̴n ̶i̛s ͝gre͟at̢. ̴Now ̵h̕e h͠as ̨b̴roken, and̴ ͜t͟h͘is͠ is̶ h̕i͞s͟ M̶ind͞sc͞ape͘,̨ m͢e͜r̶g̷e̷d̢ i͘n̵to ͏h̴i҉s ͠h͘ome w̧hen he͝ ̨s̕o̧ugh̸t s͏a͠n͜ctuary̸.”

 

“What do you mean, broken?” Pacifica asked sharply, immediately protective, while Theo stepped closer to stand by his cousins. “Dipper isn't...”

 

“Iņ t̛h̡e most̛ li͘t̵ęr̵al͟ sen̴s͞ȩ, ̛he̶ ͝is,” Fluffernutter broke in, ignoring Groknar's glare. “Bŗok̸ȩn ̢into ̸pi̢e͞ce̷s. ̛Fa̛cet̡s̸ of̵ h͡i͡m͠s̢elf. ̢Scatt͡er̨ed ̴ac҉ross ̷t̴his ̷co̡mbi͘nat̢ion̛ ̸of̸ ҉Mi̕n͘d͏scap͘e̡ ̛an͜d͜ ̴physical realm.”

 

That particular bombshell left everyone who heard it blinking in stunned silence for a few moments as they tried to process that.

 

“You...you mean that literally. You're not just using the word like most people, you really mean that,” Acacia finally said. “How is that even possible?”

 

Fluffernutter gave their best approximation of a shrug. “T̢h͟e ̕Ma̕s̕t͢er ͞do҉es̶ ̵m͞a̡n̡y̶ ̢thing̕s ͝whi͟c̛h̸ shou͜l̢d ͜not b͢e p͏ossible̕,” they said. “A̕n͘ot̛her ͝demon͡ woul̵d be d̷ea̡d̸ ͢no͡w. B͏ut҉ ̶our ͠M̢as͜t̕er̡ ͏is ͢n̵o͞t.͟ And̵ ̧w͞e ͞do͟ ͠ _no͟t͞ kn̸ow̸_ ̨w̡hat͜ ͢t͜o̵ ͠d̕o͠!̨”

 

The last was nearly wailed, and now everyone was staring again at the group on stage, which was ignored in favor of comforting the distraught nightmares.

 

Meanwhile, Ford started pacing back and forth across the stage, deep in thought.

 

“Broken into pieces. Facets of personality,” he mused. “I've never heard of anything like this.”

 

“A̕nd ̸lik͜e͜l̢y ne͏v͏e͘r wi͞l̶l again̵, ” Lolonja piped up from where she was nuzzling against Willow gently for mutual comfort. “O͝ur͠ ͜Mas͜te̢r̵ ҉is...spe̴ci̧a҉l̵. ”

 

“Okay, so we could...no that won't work...” Mabel muttered, starting to pace, mirroring her great uncle without realizing.

 

“What if we just rounded all the...all the facets up?” Henry asked, following his wife's train of thought and cutting to the simplest solution while trying not to think too hard about what he was saying. “What would happen then? Maybe they'd...merge back together if we got them all in one place?”

 

His brother had managed to merge part of reality with his Mindscape while being split into pieces. How was this even his life. How were they supposed to fix this?

 

Lolonja did the shiver motion that was the nightmare's version of a shrug. “Thi͟s is ͟u̶npŗe͡c̷e̷d͢e͝nt̴ed. We̶'͡v̷ę no p̡r̷e҉vio͟us solution. ͜It's a̧ ͜s͟o̴und̵ ̡ide̡a.”

 

“Great! So let's get some candy and Dipper's music and lure bro-bro back home,” Mabel said cheerfully.

 

“I͝t͡'̴s̢...͞not ͢likely ͢to b̸e tha̵t̛ sim̴pļe, ” Groknar said hesitantly. “Th̶e ̴Mas̶te͝ŗ..̴.n͠ot ̢every̡ fa͠cȩţ o͞f ̶him i͝s͡ hųman̛. A҉nd not a̛ll̡ are.͝.̴.nice͜.”

 

Privately, Henry was impressed. That was more diplomatic than most nightmares could manage.

 

Mabel spun to face her Grunkle Ford, pointing at him with the mom look that had been perfected on three kids and her brother. “Not. One. Word, Grunkle Ford,” she said.

 

Grunkle Ford held up his hands and backed a few steps away from his great niece. “Look, Mabel, it's just...” he sighed. “Fine. Yes, I still see Bill in your brother. Yes, I keep expecting him to turn on us. And I'm sorry. But I was trying to defend us.”

 

Mabel sighed and turned back to the Flock and her family. “Does anyone else have any other ideas?”

 

“I think we're wasting time here, dudes. Let's go get Dipper back and put our town back to normal,” Wendy said, giving her axe a twirl.

 

* * *

 

Of course it wasn't quite that simple.

 

Because first off, everyone wanted to know what was going on, what the Nightmares had to say. Which...wasn't easy to explain at all with this crowd.

 

Mabel, Acacia, and Willow were visibly chafing with impatience before it was over, and Henry took over the explanations when Ford's attempts ended with everyone more confused and upset than they'd been before.

 

It probably didn't help that they tended to see Dipper as 'that kid who used to never shower' instead of 'that kid who's now mostly demon' the way Ford sometimes did.

 

Still, once they understood the basics, well...

 

“What're you waiting for? Git out there and put that boy back together!” Lazy Susan demanded, waving an admonishing finger at the Stans. “Before he destroys everythin' without meanin' to, poor dear!”

 

There was a general murmur of agreement, with a few objections – mostly demanding to know who was going to stay behind and help defend the community center if all the experts were going out in the field.

 

Grenda stepped forward at that point, barking out, “Grenda's staying!”

 

Marius was beside his wife, nodding, in moments. “The animals need someone familiar nearby to keep them calm. We shall stay.” Grenda looked over at Mabel as Marius spoke, and the two shared an understanding nod. Much as they'd like the help, Grenda was needed here, and Mabel needed to know the rest of her town was protected.

 

Candy, Wendy, and Mabel shared a glance before Candy stepped forward. “I will stay too,” she said firmly. She nodded toward the boxes the Pines had helped her haul in. “Pines take first pick, then we hand out weapons to everyone else.”

 

Mabel looked like she wanted to protest, but took a deep breath before walking to the boxes and starting to rummage through them.

 

Henry sighed unhappily but took the axe his wife handed to him. There was a chance that being in this combination of Mindscape and Gravity Falls would keep him from turning into the Woodsman, so he had to be prepared, like it or not. He was too much a Pines at this point to refuse the practicality of a weapon.

 

Acacia already had her brass knuckles, courtesy of her Grunkle, but at their urging she picked up a few more weapons, including the longbow she practiced with when the mood struck, the one that was nearly as tall as she was. Willow picked up fire pots, meant for show not weapons but her family had a bad feeling about them in her hands.

 

Hank slung a staff almost as tall as he was across his back and walked away, leaning on his cane as he waved over Lucy Ann and the members of the Dinner Crew that had been in town at the time of the surge, the newest ones looking nervously around themselves as Reina and Vivi debated weaponry with Candy.

 

They spoke quietly and intently, arguing for a few minutes until Lucy Ann threw her arms in the air, demanding something that Hank nodded to quickly before backing away with his hands held up in surrender.

 

He came up to the rest of the family, looking sheepish, as Vivi watched in amusement.

 

“So, uh, Lucy Ann refused to stay here with the Dinner Crew, so they'll be leaving Toby in charge, to watch everyone and catch any facets of Uncle Dipper that come by, but she wants us to take some of the Flock with us.”

 

There was disgruntled murmuring from the Flock, as if insulted anyone thought someone was going to try and save their Master without them.

 

Fluffernutter stepped forward and nudged Mabel, and she smiled as she ran a hand over his wool.

 

“So that's the plan, then?” Henry said, stepping forward when it looked like everyone was waiting for someone to take the lead, Stan and Ford pointedly not looking at each other. “We go out there, gather up every bit of...of Uncle Dipper that we can,” and that still sounded so morbid and strange, despite everything they'd all been through together, “and...well, try to put him back together somehow.”

 

Sauron butted Henry's side, silently declaring he'd be going with the moose before bleating something at Fluffernutter almost shyly.

 

Fluffernutter, still up against Mabel's side, looked up at Henry with the most serious expression a sheep could muster.

 

“I̢t ͝m̛a͡y b͠e̷ ̧ha͜r̶der̸ t̡h̴an t͞hat. The ͡ot͡he͢rs͟ b̕e͘li͝e͝v̕e ̡i͠f w̷ę d͡o ͟no͡t get ̵ev̡ery̧ one͞ ̛of̴ t͢ḩe pie̡ce͡s ̛o͝f̡ th̛e Maste̡r̡ ͠togetherr͝ ̸aģa͡iņ, th̴e͞n͠ ͟w̡e̢ ̢may not̨ ͞b͡e able t̨o͘ g͞e̕t͞ ̛him ̵b̴ack a͡t̛ ͟a̴ll͢.

 

A͡n͟d̶ ̡we'r̨e ͟n͘ot ͟sur̸e͠ ͢ho̴w man̷y̡ pi̛e̸c̴es t̸he̸r͘e̢ are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I'm reminded I started writing this something like two years ago. this chapter is one of those times.  
> Also, dun dun _duuun_.


	4. Chapter 4

After Fluffernutter's little bombshell, it was more important than ever to get out there and find Dipper – before he could do something like disseminate into so many pieces, they'd never find them all.

 

In the end, they took two nightmares for each of them, with the rest agreeing to stay and protect the rest of the town. Something they probably only agreed to because Dipper loved the town so much, but it didn't matter what their reasoning was so long as they would do it.

 

So it was that the Pines family, augmented by Lucy Ann, Wendy, Soos, Melody, and Pacifica (all five of which they'd tried to talk into leaving behind and utterly failed, especially in the face of Soos' argument that “He's our family too, dudes. An' we couldn't help him last time, so we gotta now.”) set out to find all the parts of Dipper that were scattered in this mix of Mindscape and reality.

 

The Ramirez kids, Pacifica's Theo, and Grenda and Marius' Hansel, Gretyl, and Mary all agreed to stay behind and help keep things under control at the community center. They weren't happy about it, but they agreed anyway.

 

Which meant that there were twenty six nightmares going out into their Master's mindscape, halving the Flock. They weren't very happy about it at first (they didn't trust the Dreams' safety to anyone but themselves, and grudgingly their Master) but when they saw the arsenal Candy had brought along and just how competently most of the town handled it...

 

Well. They didn't worry _quite_ so much.

 

“Okay. So. Plan time,” Mabel said, her hand on the door handle. “We find as many of Dipper's facets as we can, then take them to the Shack to put them together. There might be something there that'll help. You get separated, make your way to the Shack. Got it?”

 

Various nods and mutters answered her, and with a deep breath, Mabel shoved open the door.

 

* * *

 

The street was deserted and silent, a soft wind blowing through it, the colors a mix of over- and de-saturated until some spots stood out like neon against the greys of the rest without apparent rhyme or reason behind which glowed and which didn't.

 

The town was far too silent, the usual bird calls that should have been clear without the clamor of people gone, replaced by random bursts of static or muttered whispering or occasionally snatches of song in the wind.

 

More than once, as they made their way down the street, keeping an eye out for Dipper, they all heard their own voice, memories of snatches of conversation just barely audible.

 

Though none of them could quite decide if the occasional burst of Dipper's favored frothy pop bands broke the tension or just made things worse.

 

Unconsciously they drew closer together as they inched their way down the familiar yet unfamiliar street, the nightmares that had assigned themselves as their bodyguards drawing closer to their chosen humans until they were surrounded by the press of comforting wool.

 

The wind started to pick up and the nightmares pressed even closer if it were possible, bearing their teeth and claws and tails tipped with spikes or poison.

 

What hit them wasn't a monster, but it was more than wind, and it hit them like a freight train.

 

They fought to keep their feet, grabbing onto everything they could reach. Stan caught hold of a lamp post, hitching his legs around it and grabbing blindly for the kids, snagging Acacia by the arm.

 

Her flailing hands latched onto her sister, who already had a grip on their mom.

 

Wendy caught a mailbox and Hank, while Vivi braced herself behind Henry and Ford and Pacifica sought shelter in a recessed door. Soos and Melody hid behind the mailbox Wendy had grabbed, Soos holding on with Melody between him and the metal.

 

The nightmares dug in with claw and hoof, trying not to be blown away.

 

“Crap, look out!” someone screamed, impossible to tell just who over the screaming wind, and a pack of something inky black came barrelling up the street. Though they tried to keep their holds their grips were ripped away one by one by the force of the gale and they were swept away by the wind.

 

* * *

 

Mabel hit the ground hard, tumbling over and spinning madly until she finally skidded to a halt. Struggling to her knees, she coughed, wiping at her mouth as she levered herself to her feet with her bat.

 

There were thumps nearby and she swung to face the threat, lowering the bat as Fluffernutter and Waddles II scrambled to their feet, shaking their heads dizzily. They bleated happily and hurried over when they saw her, sniffing and nuzzling at her to make sure she was all right.

 

Mabel managed a laugh when they tickled her, patting Fluffernutter on the head as she looked around. No sign of her family anywhere near, which was disappointing (and worrying) but not as much a a surprise as it could have been. She'd landed near the old water tower, which was greyed out, but with Robbie's muffin cloud standing out in brilliant red on the grey wood, the graffitti that had been destroyed along with the tower during the Transcendence and never repainted suddenly back.

 

Her hand tightened in Fluffernutter's wool for a moment as she took a deep breath, reminding herself firmly that her family could take care of each other and themselves. Still, she wasn't going to stop worrying until she'd found them all and made sure of that.

 

Especially her brother. She loved that goober, and he was hurting, and if he hurt their family while he was like this...he was never going to forgive himself, at the very least.

 

Plastering on a grin, she shouldered her bat. Shack first, or find a bit of Dipper first...decisions, decisions. “Okay, guys. Time to find my family and get my bro-bro back together and all healed up. Let's try...that way!” she declared, pointing in a random direction. The nightmares crowding her baa-ed cheerfully, trotting at her side as she set off.

 

* * *

 

The mindscape kept changing around Mabel as she walked, and sometimes she only noticed it out of the corner of her eye as something bounded away, or when something had changed after she looked away and glanced back to find it different.

 

She paused, looking out into the woods as Fluffernutter and Waddles II bumped against her side and sniffed the grey vegetation around them, though they didn't seem interested in eating it.

 

“...hmmm,” she said, eyes narrowing in consideration. If this was Dipper's mindscape, and she'd made those kittens earlier, than maybe...

 

She concentrated, squinting her eyes closed, until there was a burst of confetti, startling the nightmares.

 

When it had cleared, a Waddles large enough for all three of them to ride on stood there, snorting softly and pawing at the ground with one overlarge hoof.

 

“Yes! You really can change the mindscape here!” she cheered, climbing onboard.

 

The nightmares followed, a little more hesitatnly, and Fluffernutter baaed “I͞ am pret̷ty s̡u̴re͟ ͠y̕ou are̢ the o͡n̢ly ̡on͜e ̢it wil̸l̡ ̶r͝espo͝n҉d͝ ̧to. B͠etwe̷en y͟our ̶i̡m̴a̛g͜in͞ation ͠ąnd t͝he Master's̨ l̢ove ̛f̛o̡r y̴ou.̴..”

 

Mabel smiled, the soft one that was usually reserved for family. “Yeah, broseph's a giant sap under all the spiky demony bits. So let's get him put back together! Onward, Waddles! Find Dipper!”

 

Waddles reared up, pawing at the air with his front hooves before setting off at a rolling lope that ate up the ground.

 

* * *

 

Waddles skidded to a stop by the bunker Ford had built so long ago, snorting and sniffing at the ground.

 

The tree had retreated, the stairs open and innocently leading down into the ground, and Mabel had a bad feeling about this.

 

Waddles II leapt to the ground and sniffed around himself, looking back up at Mabel. “T̵he ͞M̧ast͡e̕r is̷ d͘own ̴t͟here̸,” they bleated, “o҉ŗ ̴a̷t̸ l̢ea̶s̴t̕,̶ ̕p͞art o͠f ̷h͠im͏ is͞.̕”

 

“Right,” Mabel said, giving her arms a warm-up stretch before sliding off Waddles herself. “Time to get Dipper out of the creepy old end of the world bunker. Take five Waddles. C'mon, boys, we're going in.”

 

* * *

 

The stairs were just as creepy as Mabel remembered them being, possibly even more so since she was by herself this time, with only nightmares by her side instead of her brother, Soos, or Wendy.

 

The cobwebs were thick and the air cloying, the webs clinging to her hair and sweater and the air sticking in her throat. It was hard to breathe until she made it to the bottom of the stairs, where it changed, no less cloying but more stale than unbreathable. Almost as if forcing her way through it had been the first test.

 

When they reached the bottom, the lighting, which had already been dim, flickered and threatened to give out. Mabel frowned and tucked her bat under her arm to clap her hands, grinning when a dozen little lights sprang into existence to brighten the lab in defiance of the buzzing, flickering florescent lights.

 

“You know, if it weren't for the whole chaos and emotional pain thing, and me being the only one getting the mindscape benefit, this would be awesome,” she commented. “Dipper's gonna have to set me up when this whole thing's over. Onward!”

 

* * *

 

If Mabel hadn't already been fairly sure that her brother was down here, then she would have been convinced as soon as they stepped into the security room, the one with the blocky walls that needed symbols pressed to make them recede that had already been disabled.

 

The security room's walls began to close in on the three of them as soon as they entered, only to freeze and begin to retreat back into their positions as soon as they came close to trapping the threesome.

 

Mabel gave a sharp nod. Oh, her brother was in here, all right – and he was controlling this part of the mindscape, at least.

 

If he really wanted to hide from her, he should put a little more effort into it. Like, maybe, making her fight for it instead of pulling back the instant she was in danger.

 

“Dipper!” she called as the three of them walked deeper into the bunker. “Bro-bro, where you at? C'mon out and talk to me!”

 

“... _g̕o ̷a͞w͠a͠y_...” she heard, faint and soft, echoing around the bunker.

 

Mabel didn't put down her bat, since this was still her great uncle's bunker inside her 'demon – brother – who – was – currently – having – a – breakdown's' mindscape, but she did try to follow the voice. He might have been controlling it, and not want to hurt her, but accidents still happened. She knew better than most, accidents still could happen.

 

“Dipper, stop that,” she scolded. “You didn't make me go through this kind of thing by myself, and I'm not doing that to you. Come on out and talk to me.”

 

“... _no_...” she heard, a little louder but still as stubborn. She bit back a groan.

 

“I'm not leaving,” she called back, just as stubborn. “We work best together, bro. I'm not going anywhere without you.”

 

“You should,” she heard, louder yet. There was a soft scraping noise from the ceiling, and she spun, bat at the ready, before she looked up and finally found her brother.

 

Dipper was sitting on the ceiling, curled up around his knees, hair and coattails hanging towards the floor. His eyes, glowing in the dim light with their own inner glow, watched her unblinkingly from over his crossed arms.

 

“You should go,” he repeated, the reverb gone from his voice, leaving it flat, as if he were simply stating facts. “You should never have trusted me. I'm a demon, remember?”

 

The flat statement sent chills down Mabel's back, but she kept it off her face. Her brother probably knew anyway, but she wasn't about to show it. “You're being a big drama head again,” she said. Pointing to the ground, she added, “Get down here and talk to me already.”

 

Dipper's eyes, the only part of him she could see clearly, narrowed into two golden lines of light. Mabel added a “Please, Dipper,” and he shifted, finally starting to move, grumbling.

 

Instead of just floating down, though, this part of Dipper she'd found crawled across the ceiling and down the wall head first, like an animal, a lizard, unnatural and wrong.

 

Mabel got the idea he wanted her creeped out and leaving, and let annoyance take the place of that fear. Her brother had another thing coming if he thought this was enough to make her abandon even part of him – they were the Mystery Twins and she wasn't leaving him here!

 

Besides, he should know by now it took more than that to get under her skin by this point.

 

“Dipper, you're being silly,” she said when her brother stayed perched on the wall, refusing to come closer, head twisted up and around to look at her in ways a neck shouldn't be able to bend. “And you're not making any sense.”

 

Dipper hissed, quietly. “ _You're_ the one not making sense,” he replied. “ _Trust no one_. Not even yourself,” he added, the last part almost to himself. “Just go,” he repeated, louder, still mostly in the shadows, finally dropping down to the ground and the darker shadows there. “I'm too dangerous to be around. Leave, before I fuck up and hurt you. Again.”

 

“...is that why you're hiding down here?” Mabel said disbelievingly. “There's enough of you that believes you're gonna mess up and hurt us that you could make a whole facet of yourself for it?”

 

“Trust no one,” Dipper repeated, backing away from Mabel. “You sound like Mabel, you look like her, smell like her...but are you her?”

 

He continued to repeat “Trust no one” softly, like a mantra. When Mabel stepped closer and he backed away, crouched like an animal, ears flat and buried in his hair, hands pressed to the sides of his head, curled around himself.

 

“Dipper,” Mabel said, for once at a loss for words. Her brother shook his head fiercely, nearly toppling his little top hat.

 

“No! No, no,” he whispered. “ _Trust no one._ Not sister, not brother, not yourself, can't be trusted, I'll hurt them again, can't be trusted!”

 

He stood, an abrupt, almost inhuman motion, as if he had too many joints, had forgotten just what a human body should be, and turned. “Just...just _go_ ,” he said. “You...shouldn't trust me. And I should never have trusted anyone else.”

 

“How many times do I have to say this before I get it through your thick head?” Mabel said, finally starting to lose patience and to cover the sound of her heart breaking. “You even said it once – we work best _together_. I know you don't mean any of that crap you're saying. There's no one in the world we trust more than each other. We face things together, no matter how frightening it is.”

 

“And we shouldn't,” Dipper snapped, spinning back to face Mabel again, claws plainly visible as he gestured wildly. “I'm a demon, and trusting me is foolish! And me trusting someone else is asking to be bound again!”

 

The nightmares cowered away from the arguing twins against the wall of the bunker, watching them with heads that snapped back and forth between them like spectators at a tennis match.

 

Mabel started to tear up and took a deep breath. “Why? Why would you ever think...why would you think we'd want to hurt you like that? That I want to hurt you like that? Dipper, you're my best friend. You're my brother. I love you so damn much, why can't you accept that?”

 

Dipper, who had turned away to storm off (or go hide and sulk over how he should never be trusted or trust anyone), turned back to answer and froze at the sight of his sister's tears.

 

“No! No, I don't...I...Mabel, please. Please don't cry,” Dipper said, rushing to hug his sister. “Please, I... _shit_ , Mabel.”

 

Mabel wiped at her eyes, the tears that hadn't yet spilled but had threatened, brought on by too many stresses, too many close calls of losing her brother, her family, her town, and now again she faced losing her brother. She returned the hug, fingers burrowing into her brother's coat and holding him tight.

 

“I get it, that you're not all of Dipdot,” she said quietly, tilting her head to rest against her brother's. “That you're the part of him that's scared and hurting and doesn't think he should trust anyone or himself.

 

But we _do_ trust you, Dipper. And we need you. We need to find all of you, to get you back.”

 

She felt the sigh reverberate through her brother's body, pressed together as closely as they were. His cheek rubbed against her hair as they held the hug, parting reluctantly.

 

Carefully she took her brother's hand, smiling confidently up at him, wiping off her face with her free hand. She gave his hand a little tug, feeling a bit like a little kid with a balloon when he followed along with as much effort and enthusiasm as one, grateful he was at least doing that and not fighting her anymore.

 

“C'mon, broseph – let's get you put back together.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note: this chapter references The Scouring more than I remembered. Specifically, in talking about the platform etc. in the first section. If you're confused, that's where to look for answers. Or ask in the comments.

Hank was, unfortunately, more used to waking from being knocked unconscious than he liked to be.

 

Which meant he had plenty of practice at taking stock of his surroundings as quickly as possible once he managed to wake up, without having to bother with fuzzy stages between unconscious and awake.

 

He cracked open his eyes, glancing around and trying not to let on that he'd regained consciousness just yet.

 

Then he felt something nudge the back of his head, and long association told him it was a nightmare snout before he could panic. Sure that they wouldn't be simply nudging him if there was danger (since the nightmares could be just as bad as Uncle Dipper when it came to being overprotective), Hank opened his eyes properly and sat up.

 

That of Teeth stepped back, giving him room as he took in his surroundings. If Hank had to guess, he'd say he was back in the town square, but...the platform was back, the cross the Alliance had tied Uncle Dipper to on it still standing, though tilted and unsteady looking. He knew that thing had been chopped up and burned down...hell, he had roasted marshmallows over it! So why the hell was it standing again?

 

More than the cross was different from before, he realized after staring at it for a few more seconds. The platform was made of old, jagged wood, unlike the smooth surface the Alliance had built, and the whole thing looked unsteady and dangerous. The cross itself wasn't the smooth thing he'd seen, but just as jagged and painful looking as the rest of the platform, and it gave Hank the shivers and made bile rise in his throat to look at it.

 

Since this was at least partially his uncle's mindscape...Hank had a pretty good idea for why both platform and cross looked like that.

 

The rest of the square was deserted, and nearly all greyscale, worse than the part of town they'd managed to reach before being separated by what basically amounted to a magical hurricane.

 

Standing, Hank staggered a little, caught from falling by That of Teeth. He gave the nightmare a quick pat in thanks absently as he looked around, trying to decide what to do next.

 

Bessie, the other nightmare who'd volunteered to stick with Hank, came trotting up, bleating softly in the way of a nightmare who didn't want to admit just how worried and distressed they were while giving it away to everyone used to their antics.

 

After she finished sniffing Hank, Bessie grabbed his shirt and tugged. Hank had trouble tearing his eyes off the platform and cross – he didn't have his sister's abilities, but the whole thing still oozed pain and fear even to him.

 

Bessie butted his side, and Hank's head whipped around to look at her, breaking the odd spell the horrible thing in front of him seemed to have cast. For her part, Bessie looked far more smug than a sheep should be able to be.

 

“ W͟e͞ ̴ha̴ve͟ c͠omp̴any͜,͠ ” she bleated quietly, twisting her head a full hundred and eighty degrees, and Hank followed her gaze.

 

Standing behind them, at the edge of town, was...someone, someone Hank felt like he  _ knew _ , even though he was very sure he'd never seen them before. 

 

They were dressed for the woods, in heavy boots and flannel, and had a distinct feel of 'not-human' to them.

 

They were leaning against a building when Hank turned to look at them, projecting nonchalance but still visibly brimming with impatience. When they caught Hank's eye they straightened, walking into the square, giving the platform a glare and the finger before turning their attention back to Hank.

 

He gave them a closer look, noting the slowly changing hair colors, the hints of non human about them that shifted and changed from species to species, and took a guess. “Gravity Falls?”

 

They grinned, showing teeth that were just a touch inhuman, before sobering quickly.

 

“How are you...I mean...” Hank gestured, hands filling in for the words he couldn't seem to find.

 

The genius loci of Gravity Falls smirked at him, apparently amused by his confusion. “You're the witch, and a Pines – you figure it out,” they said, walking closer.

 

Hank glanced around at the mix of reality and Mindscape and said dryly, “You can appear because everything else is mixed up?”

 

Gravity Falls shrugged. “A little of this, little of that. But it had to be to you. You can hear me, when the others will only hear whispers.” Hank winced, reminded of how Portland was beginning to respond to him, but didn't argue. “Well, that and...” they sighed, and Hank stepped forward, reaching for them, his hand hovering but not quite touching them.

 

“This is hurting you, isn't it?” he said, all concern, and Gravity Falls smiled faintly, letting themselves be led to the bench that still remained, warped as it was, at the edge of the square.

 

“It is,” they agreed, “but it's hurting your uncle more.” They smiled again, a small curve of lips that gave away little, when Hank went still. “If Portland can care for you, why can't I care for those who live here as well? I'm not enjoying his pain. Demon or not, he is mine as I am his, and I love him, as I love all of you.”

 

“Can you help us?” Hank asked, as Bessie and That of Teeth nuzzled curiously at Gravity Falls' hands, and he could almost hear Lucy Ann face palming at the blunt question.

 

“To a point,” they shrugged, grimacing. “There wasn't much I could do when these... _ people _ ...were hurting my child, and it's his pain that's caused this. Easing his pain and putting him back together are the only things that are going to fix it. But I can help you find him and the rest of your family. They're mine, as you are, and your uncle is.”

 

“But that's great!” Hank exclaimed. “If we can find him, then maybe we can help him get back together!”

 

The nightmares bleated hopefully, and Gravity Falls smiled. “I am not sure if it will be that easy, but you're right, it is a start.” They stood, stretching and wincing, and Hank near tripped over his own feet to join them.

 

“Are you sure you're all right?” he asked.

 

“I will manage,” they said, rubbing at their lower back. “Though it's not pleasant. The sooner this is resolved, the best it will be for everyone. I can't hold this together and protect my people from your uncle's Mindscape forever. The unpleasant memories and fears he contains are strong.”

 

Hank winced. “Yeah, yeah they would be,” he said despondently. Gravity Falls managed a little smile as they started walking.

 

They patted Hank's shoulder, pointing the direction to go as they spoke. “If it's any consolation, the pleasant memories your uncle holds are also strong. Stronger than the bad. They are what keeps the darkness at bay, and why he has yet to succumb to them.”

 

“...that does help. Thanks,” Hank said, smiling a little, the best he could.

 

* * *

 

The strange group started walking, following the vague sense of “Dipper” and “Master” that Gravity Falls and the nightmares had. It wasn't easy, since nearly everything had that 'feel' to it, but it was stronger in the direction of personality facets, and they followed that faint scent with many uneasy stops.

 

Hank wasn't quite sure what he expected to find when they did finally come across a part of his uncle. His uncle was a demon of many moods, and everyone had more to their personality than what was on the surface. Despite all Dipper's care to try and keep the triplets safe and away from it all, it wasn't as successful as he would have liked.

 

So when Bessie and That of Teeth led Hank and Gravity Falls into another section of clearing, surrounded by more trees, and they saw Dipper kneeling in the grass, actually in the grass itself and not floating above it, well, he had a very, very bad feeling about all of this.

 

“Uncle Dipper...?” he said cautiously, inching his way out from behind the trees, the staff Aunt Candy had given him held loosely at his side, weight on his good leg. It wasn't that Dipper frightened him anymore, just...well...his uncle could be unpredictable when he was in full demon mode. He'd never turned on the triplets, but, well...

 

The aspect of Dipper they'd found twisted to look at Hank, something cupped in his clawed hands, and Hank felt his heart sink.

 

_ Please don't be eating something, please don't be eating someONE...  _ Hank took another deep breath before speaking, knowing full well the lack of blood didn't mean Uncle Dipper wasn't doing something they'd all regret. “What's that you found?”

 

Dipper beamed, twisting to show Hank what was in his cupped hands. He held them out to Hank before opening them, chattering about a mile per minute as he did. “I've been in this part of the forest a hundred times before but I never saw these here, where do you think they came from? I mean I don't think they're even in the journals but I guess I shouldn't need those anymore but I don't want to use my omniscience since I don't really trust it but they're really cool and...”

 

The tiny creature Dipper was holding – Hank was tempted to call it a uni-kitten for a second until he recognized it as one of the winged kittens his mom had created to call everyone when they realized they were in the Mindscape and Gravity Falls combined – yawned hugely before mewing up at Hank.

 

For a second, Hank wasn't quite sure what to do. Tell Uncle Dipper who made those? Question him? In the meantime, Dipper continued to study the little kitten, being surprisingly gentle with it (which wasn't that surprising really, Hank thought with a smile as he sat down slowly beside his uncle – cat or not, it was still a baby, and Dipper didn't go out of his way to hurt things unless he'd lost himself, especially not the young and defenseless).

 

Gravity Falls watched from the edge of the clearing, not yet revealing themselves to the demon in the clearing but keeping watch instead.

 

“Uncle Dipper,” he said finally, his uncle's ear twitching in his direction even as his eyes stayed glued to the kitten-thing in his hands, “do you...know what's going on? Or where we are?”

 

Dipper frowned and shifted, like a child when they'd been caught doing something naughty, and set the kitten down, where it started to bat at Bessie's hooves.

 

Bessie and That of Teeth bent their heads to get a better look at the kitten, who mewed at them and batted at their noses, getting a nuzzle from Bessie.

 

Dipper smiled at them, apparently absorbed in their play before Hank dared to give him a tiny elbow nudge. This didn't seem to be one of the more dangerous parts of Dipper's personality, so...

 

Dipper shifted guiltily, and Hank knew he was right. “Uncle Dipper...” he said, patiently, for this Dipper that felt so much younger than the Dipper Hank knew. “C'mon, you can tell me.”

 

The uni-kitten pawed at Hank's jeans, rolling over with a mew. Dipper looked down at it, then his eyes darted to something Hank didn't see, and he was up and darting towards the spark of light in a moment.

 

Hank caught the back of Dipper's tailcoat at the last second, bringing his uncle to a sudden, jerking stop. Dipper's little wings buzzed as the pulled, whining. “Come on, Hank, I wanna see! Let's _go_!”

 

Hank looked at Dipper in confusion even as he pulled his uncle back, wrapping arms around him so he couldn't dart away again. “Uncle Dipper,” he said in a tone of reproach, and his uncle drooped in his arms, and once again Hank was reminded of just how much smaller than him his uncle was.

 

“I dunno, I was really upset and I don't want to think about it,” Dipper said. Apparently he could feel Hank's impatience still, as he squirmed a little before saying, “I got split into different facets and now we're all stuck in my mindscape.”

 

He started wiggling again, and Hank had to fight to hold on to him. “Now let go, I want to go see what I saw.”

 

“Oh for a child leash,” Hank muttered. “Wouldn't you rather try and figure out why we're all here? All of Gravity Falls shouldn't be in here,” he asked, and Dipper stilled, leaning back until he was looking up at Hank. “And we need to find out what all is in here and find a way out. Aren't you curious about all that? Wouldn't you like to go find out?”

 

Dipper's eyes went wide, and Hank breathed a sigh of relief. He had guessed right – he'd managed to find Curiosity. His uncle always had had more than his fair share of it, so it made sense that it would get a full facet to itself.

 

“We have to find the rest of our family,” Hank said gently, letting go of Dipper. The demon hovered in place until Hank grabbed his hand and tugged him along after him as he started walking, like a balloon on a string.

 

He had to keep that grip tight, since he had apparently found 'curiosity' but not 'focus', and Dipper kept trying to dart off to look at things.

 

It was kind of cute, if distracting.

 

Like a five year old. Only bigger, and even more curious. And unending.

 

Gravity Falls trailed behind them, out of Dipper's sight, and Hank wondered if they were hiding from his uncle. He wasn't sure he could blame them if they were – his uncle was more unpredictable than usual right now, for all he'd found 'curiosity' and not something more dangerous.

 

...then again, his Great-great Uncle Ford had done some pretty questionable things in the name of curiosity, despite the fancy words G-Grunkle Ford used to describe what he'd done, and Hank had already rescued folks from situations that basically boiled down to a person being curious about how someone else worked and willing to take them apart to find out how, to justify a bit of caution.

 

Eventually he gave up on simple hand holding and tugged his uncle back down to hug him, Dipper's back to his front, carrying his uncle like a cat, albeit a very wiggly and squirmy one. He might have worried about claws, if his uncle hadn't made it clear he still knew who Hank was, and despite being a facet of personality still had enough of his uncle's heart and mind to want to avoid harming a nibling.

 

Suddenly Dipper went still, and Hank instinctively tightened his grip, already painfully aware that the sudden stillness could well mean his uncle was getting ready to pounce on something.

 

Dipper's hair tickled Hank's face as he tilted it back, watching in fascination as Gravity Falls appeared, stepping closer to Hank, bending in close to whisper in his ear.

 

“Who's that?” he heard his uncle whisper, and felt Gravity Falls' amusement in the smile that stirred the hair on the side of his face, they were so close.

 

“There are memories nearby,” Gravity Falls said softly. “Not good ones, given form and substance by being in the mindscape. The nightmares sense another facet close by, and another human traveling with a second farther off, and something that is neither in the woods. They can guide us around the memories and toward the human and facets, if you can keep this one from giving us away with his questions.”

 

Hank looked down at his uncle, who was still staring at Gravity Falls with wide, curious eyes, starting to squirm, and chuckled. “Easy enough,” he said, plopping his uncle into the startled genius loci's arms.

 

Gravity Falls fumbled for a moment, and it was mostly Dipper's curiosity about them that kept them from losing him. Immediately he was peppering Gravity Falls with questions, and the look they gave Hank was drier than the Sahara.

 

Hank smiled back, unrepentant. “That should keep him occupied and not asking about other things,” he said innocently. “Or trying to dash off after everything he sees.”

 

Gravity Falls sighed indulgently and set off after the nightmares, still holding Dipper, who had shrunk somewhat so he could continue to cling easier and continue asking question after question.

 

After question.

 

After question.

 

After question...

 


	6. Chapter 6

Grenda paced the length of the community center, hands running over her weapon. Her mind kept going back to the last near-apocalypse they'd all been involved in, back when she was still a child and unable to do anything to help the girl and her brother who'd been two of the only ones to accept her as she was, without trying to change something about her, and the 'incident', as it was being called, of a few months ago.

 

If she never had to see that again...if Mabel was like a sister to her, then demon or not, Dipper was like an annoying, slightly bratty brother, and she still wanted to beat heads in for what they'd done to him. And that was before she started in on them for the trauma to her animals.

 

Across the room, her husband was calming down a couple who had started to panic about being trapped in the community center. Her kids (and wasn't that amazing, still, that she had kids, the one who'd thought once she'd never be able to have kids at all, not even adopted) were sticking close to the Ramirez Seven.

 

Candy had set up shop in the small balcony that surrounded this part of the community center, near a window, where she could keep a lookout.

 

It may have been deceptive, but it still felt pretty safe in here, inside the center. Thankfully there was food down in the kitchens (there had been some kind of event planned for what should have been the next day, and after all the things that went on in Gravity Falls, well, right now they were keeping places like this stocked in case of emergencies...though no one had ever expected an emergency like this) as it was getting close to dinnertime.

 

At least, Grenda thought it was getting close to dinnertime. Time was behaving oddly right now, as the clock above the door had at once point been ticking away faster than any clock she'd ever seen, and was now running backwards.

 

She knew she wasn't hungry, and her kids weren't complaining about it yet. Usually Hansel, at least, wasn't shy about letting others know when he was hungry.

 

Grenda passed by a small, curtained alcove as she continued her patrol around the room, and paused at the tiny noise she thought she heard from behind the curtain.

 

For a second, she was tempted to keep moving, but she hadn't made it this far in Gravity Falls by not paying attention to things.

 

Grenda glanced away from the curtain only long enough to silently signal for backup. Osa, Ford Lee, and Flora, Soos' eldest three children, managed to disengage from the kids and make their way over to their aunt, keeping it low key so folks wouldn't worry.

 

Grenda knew from long experience that her voice carried, even when she tried to be quiet, so she nodded at the curtained alcove instead of speaking.

 

Thankfully the young adults in question had grown up around the Pines family and were just as on edge as their aunt. Just as nonchalantly as they had come over they surrounded the alcove, ready for whatever might burst out of it.

 

Several of the nightmares joined them, staring at the curtain, and drawing attention to the group, which was ignored in favor of keeping their focus.

 

With a nod to the others, Ford Lee stepped forward and grabbed the curtain. There was another sound from behind the curtain, like a muffled sob, almost like a frightened child, but they ignored it. The creatures outside might not have made noise yet, but none of them doubted the ability of creatures to make similar noises to make them let their guard down.

 

Ford Lee ripped the curtain back, and the three adults swung their weapons higher, their war cries halted by the cry of fear from the tiny form behind the curtain.

 

When the blows didn't fall, both humans and nightmares staring in blunt shock and unable to move, the tiny form of Dipper Pines that had been hiding behind the curtain slowly lowered his arms, staring up at them with huge, teary eyes.

 

This form couldn't have been older than six, at most. Ford Lee, Flora, and Osa were already lowering their weapons, but Grenda waited until one of the Flock stepped forward and sniffed at the boy.

 

“It ̧i̡s p̷a̢rt͏ o͠f ͠our Ma͜st͟er,͞” the nightmare announced, “but͘ ͜I̸ ͞d̕o n͘ot̢ und̷er͝st͏a̵n͏d͠.͡ ͡Wh͝y is͡ ͘he her̛e̕?͝ W̷e͝ d͞įd ͏not ̢s͢ens̢e ͜h̴i̡m͘ ̷bef҉ore.͘”

 

“He must have been hiding from everyone,” Osa said, crouching so he could be closer to Dipper's level. “But what part of Tío Dipper would be hiding like this? Why would he even try to hide?”

 

Ford Lee was already reaching for the tiny Dipper, who was still looking on the edge of tears. Tiny Dipper shrank back, away from the reaching hands, glancing between them and Ford Lee's face, before apparently coming to a decision.

 

He reached out for Ford Lee, letting himself be picked up, though he looked uncomfortable when the adults circled around them and he hid his face in Ford's shirt.

 

“Aw, Tío Dipper's cute like this,” Osa cooed, ruffling the tiny child's hair.

 

Tiny Dipper pouted and buried his face deeper into Ford Lee's shoulder grumpily.

 

“Okay, cuteness aside, what is he doing here?” Flora said. “And besides that, he's going to need to be with the other facets, isn't he? To get Tío Dipper back to normal. His normal, at least.”

 

Ford Lee shifted Dipper in his arms, the child still gripping his shirt tightly. “I know, but this is still weird,” he said. “Aunt Grenda, what do you think? Aunt Candy? I mean, I half expected to see, like, snark or something, not a little kid.”

 

“Dipper has enough of that for a facet,” Candy agreed, sliding down the post holding up the balcony to join them. Thankfully most people were still either unaware of the drama unfolding or were keeping their distance for the time being, so the facet was slowly pulling his face out of Ford Lee's shirt.

 

“Whatever part of Tío Dipper this is, Flora's right,” Osa said. “We've got to get him to the Shack, like Fluffernutter said, or we'll never get him back. But who's gonna take him? I mean, most folks here can handle themselves, but it's not right to leave them unprotected. There's too many older folk and kids.”

 

Grenda and Candy looked at each other and nodded firmly. “Okay, here's the plan,” Grenda said. “Candy and I'll take the little Dip to the Shack. Ramirez Seven are in charge of Security with the Corduroys. Candy, you go let them know. I gotta go tell my hubbie and the kids.”

 

“You three, stay here,” Candy said, pointing at them. “Keep him calm. Will be back soon.” With that, she strode off after Grenda, both women on a mission.

 

Ford Lee cradled his Tío Dipper as they waited, hoping nobody would notice them. “Do you think we need to search the rest of the building?” Osa asked, glancing around the room. “I mean, if we all missed one before...”

 

“I will look,” said Grazer of Eternity, stepping forward. “And then I shall accompany the Protector and Fierce One to the Shack. One of us should be enough to balance them.”

 

He turned and nodded to the other sheep before trotting off, disappearing into the Community Center.

 

“Anybody else going to help him?” Osa asked the other sheep in the same tone he used on his siblings, and it was just as effective now, as the sheep shifted uncomfortably before two more rolled their eyes and followed after Grazer of Eternity.

 

* * *

 

No one was quite happy that Grenda and Candy were leaving, and it took a bit to convince the facet of Dipper to stop clinging to Ford Lee, but when they finally did...well.

 

Hard to demand someone that small go by himself all the way to the Shack in conditions like these.

 

* * *

 

Grenda and Candy had expected to see the Rainbow Basher, at least, gone, taken by the Pines, and were worried and surprised to find it still parked in front of the Community Center.

 

Still, neither woman was one to take an opportunity for granted. Mabel wouldn't mind them borrowing her cult-bashing car for an emergency, so they piled in, the two humans sandwiching the demonic aspect between them as the Grazer of Eternity climbed into the backseat.

 

The Rainbow Basher could handle just about anything, which it proved as it took out one of the monsters that had been terrorizing them all, running it over with satisfying _thunks._

 

Still, Candy kept her gun at the ready as Grenda drove them through the forest, forced to go slow as it had grown up around the road to the Shack to the point that they were basically off-roading their way in.

 

This was going to take longer than anticipated.

 

* * *

 

Hank paused on the top of the clifftop, the short cliff that had seemed to simply appear in front of the five of them.

 

Then again, this was partially the mindscape, so it was perfectly possible that it had, in fact, appeared out of nowhere.

 

At their feet spread Gravity Falls' Lake, which Hank knew for a fact should have been miles away from where they'd been walking.

 

And yet here it was, stretching off into the distance, looking much bigger and deeper than it was back in reality.

 

Squinting, Hank shielded his eyes with one hand, planting his cane for support to give his knee a break as he tried to make out just what he was seeing.

 

That of Teeth trotted up beside him, staring out at the huge lake while Bessie and Gravity Falls continued to deal with Uncle Dipper's non stop questions.

 

Hank glanced down at That of Teeth. “So...do we go back, or is part of Uncle Dipper out there?”

 

That of Teeth gave Hank a Look, and the witch sighed. “Of course he is. Well, better go find him then. Lead the way, Teeth.”

 

Only from family would nightmares take shortening their names, so That of Teeth just rolled his glowing eldritch eyes and started walking.

 

The five made their way down the cliff to the edge of the lake, walking along the beach as That of Teeth led the way.

 

It might have been pleasant, a little walk along the beach, if it weren't for the grey cast over most of the scenery and the strange wailing that ebbed and crested from the forest behind them, the occasional wave that rose from the lake and clawed the shore near their feet, as if hungry to draw them in and devour them.

 

It was slightly unsettling, but so long as they kept out of the water, seemed harmless enough for now.

 

They all knew how quickly that could change, and kept on the move as quickly as they could rather than taunt the lake.

 

The large object Hank had seen from the short clifftop was revealed to be a ship as they got closer. As they got even closer, Hank noticed the pirate flag flying from the mast, and had to take a deep breath.

 

This could be okay, or very, very bad.

 

Then a dirty, smudged face peeked out from over the railing, grinning widely, and Hank relaxed a fraction.

 

Because while his uncle was fastidious about cleanliness, that was still his uncle's face under the grime, and the grin he was wearing was one Hank had seen many times before – excitement and mischief and thrill of discovery, but no malice or demonic tendencies within it.

 

The Dipper on the ship pointed a sword at them (and good grief why did Uncle Dipper have a sword oh right he had a sword cane why did they ever think letting Uncle Dipper have a sword cane or sharp objects of any kind was a good idea) and called down, “Identify yourselves!”

 

Hank kept from face palming by a monumental act of willpower. “Uncle Dipper, it's me,” he called up. “What are you even doing up there?”

 

Ship Dipper cocked his head to the side, studying Hank, ears twitching and eyes traveling over the redhead over to the sheep at his side and the genus locii standing a few feet behind them, still clutching the curiosity fragment of Dipper. They were holding on tighter now, as the presence of the ship had Curiosity squirming to be free and investigate.

 

Still holding the sword low and ready, Ship Dipper leapt over the railing and drifted down closer to Hank and his entourage. He got up close to Hank, looking closely at his eyes and giving him a sniff, before breaking out in a grin.

 

“You are Hank!” he declared happily. He swung his arms as he spoke, and Hank kept a close eye on the sword his uncle was waving, apparently having forgotten he was holding it. “There've been so many different creatures around here but you're the first family I've seen, it's amazing, have you even seen any of it? I was exploring that island out there,” a swish of the sword, pointing to the island in question, and Hank was going to take that thing off his uncle as soon as he could get his hands on it he swore so help him, “but then I saw this ship and it's so cool! And I had to check it out, and now you're here, so come on, I think I saw some chests down below, who knows what might be in them!”

 

Ship Dipper grabbed Hank's hand and started tugging in the direction of the ship. “C'mon, I think it's a pirate ship!” he urged. “Check the flag and everything!”

 

Behind them, Hank could hear Curiosity perking up and Gravity Falls trying to get him to settle down and not go flying off. It didn't sound like they were having an easy time of it back there.

 

Meanwhile, Hank was getting dragged towards the pirate ship, and the nightmares weren't helping, standing off to the side and laughing instead of trying to rein in their master.

 

“Uncle Dipper, wait! Uncle Dipper!” Hank gasped, digging his feet into the sand and trying to come to a stop. It didn't work, and he was dragged several more feet before his excited uncle noticed his resistance and looked back. “We have to find the Shack, Uncle Dipper. We can go exploring after we find everyone and get them rounded up at the Shack, okay?”

 

His uncle pouted, actually pouted, and looked back at the pirate ship longingly. “But...” Hank tugged lightly on the hand his uncle was still holding, and Dipper looked between Hank and the ship with clear indecision.

 

“We're really lost,” Hank prompted gently. “Nothing's where it should be. We don't have a clue where the Shack could be, and everyone else is lost too. Doesn't that sound like an adventure? The ultimate treasure hunt?”

 

Ship Dipper – who Hank was dubbing 'The Explorer' mentally, to keep the two fragments of his uncle separate in his head and so he didn't have to keep calling them things like 'ship Dipper' – looked less torn with each word.

 

By the time Hank was finished talking, Explorer was tugging at his hand again, this time in the direction of the forest. Glancing back at Gravity Falls, the words he was about to say to them were forgotten when he saw how much difficulty they were having holding on to Curiosity.

 

Even as he noticed that, Hank almost lost his grip on Explorer. “How did mom...” Hank muttered, managing to get a grip on Explorer with his free hand.

 

He heard Gravity Falls chuckle behind him. “She visualized,” the genius loci answered. “And she had a bit of practice, and your uncle's absolute trust. Your uncle has taken you to the mindscape before, hasn't he?”

 

Hank blinked a couple times as that sank in. He looked at the aspect of his uncle tugging on his hands and at the one nearly free of Gravity Falls' arms again before making up his mind.

 

He closed his eyes and concentrated, opening them again when both aspects let out twin cries of dismay and indignation and the nightmares started to laugh, baaing mixed with an air of eldritch horror.

 

Each aspect was wearing a child harness, attached to a leash. They both reacted like cats first put on a leash, with Explorer dropping to the ground like a stone and Curiosity clawing at the harness, squirming and twisting as if he had no bones, both making a growling, mewling noise of protest and discontent.

 

Gravity Falls, with the end of Curiosity’s leash tight in hand, was watching the show with as much entertainment as the nightmares. “Well, that's one way to handle it,” they said.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Henry opened his eyes slowly, half expecting his head to be throbbing and surprised he wasn't hurting like he half expected to be.

 

The ground he was lying on was spongy, with the cool, green scent of moss, and he fully opened his eyes to see trees stretching towards the jaggedly striped grey and neon blue sky.

 

The juxtaposition made his head hurt, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he rolled over and got to his knees.

 

When his head stopped spinning and eyes stopped watering, he sat up on his knees and took a cautious look around.

 

The bright colors overlaid with grey were easier to look at than the sky, and seemed vaguely familiar, like he knew the part of the forest.

 

He looked around slowly, searching for his family, and he could vaguely feel his antlers trying to form, more solid here in this mix of reality and Mindscape than they were everyday, the axe ready to come to his hand despite there being no threat here yet to face.

 

There weren't any other humans in sight, but Sauron and Baaaaab, the nightmares that had chosen him, were scrambling to their feet and trotting towards him, which was a surprising relief.

 

Only this family would be  _relieved_ to see demonic nightmare sheep trotting towards them, Henry thought ruefully as he let the two give him a quick once over.

 

“Do either of you know what happened there? Or where anyone is?” he asked, and both sheep shook their heads solemnly. Henry sighed. “Figures. Okay. Can you feel where we are or how to get to the Shack?”

 

They perked up at that, and Sauron trotted forward, giving him a gentle head butt. “Wȩ can͘ ̸fi͡nd͘ o͜u͡r͠ ̵way͘ t͘o ̡the͟ ̨Şh͜a̵ck͢ ̡f҉rom͏ ̵an͠y̛where̡,” they said, “an͝d̷ I̸ t̶h͘i̴n͘k I fe̶el̶ ̕th͡e͏ Master͘ ͠n̸ea͟r͢by͢. We͝ mu͘st ͢have landed ̢near ̡on̨e̵ o̶f ̷h̢i̷s ҉f͞acets.̵”

 

“Handy,” Henry said, then sighed again and ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. That done, he gave the sheep a small smile and got to his feet with a little shove from Baaaaab. “Okay, guys. Let's go see what Dipper's got in store for us this time.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, they didn't find Dipper. Dipper found them.

 

Henry stiffened when there was a rustling in the bushes, but didn't see the two glowing, mischievous eyes peeking out of the leaves and catlike grin in place below them.

 

Henry did react to the squeal of glee, but was seconds to slow to dodge, only just managing to turn in time to face his attacker. The black and brown blur tackled him, slamming him to the ground as the nightmares reared in panic.

 

Henry's heart was going a mile a minute as he struggled to get up, arms pinning his down and weight holding him to the ground, breath knocked out of him and still not caught, and he tried to brace himself for pain.

 

Instead, purring rumbled through his body as his 'attacker' buried his face in his shirt, arms wrapping tighter around Henry's torso as the man cautiously tried to sit up.

 

“Henryyyyyyyyy,” Dipper cooed, rubbing his face against Henry's shirt. “Henry Henry Henrrrrrrrrry.”

 

“Um...hi, Dipper,” Henry said cautiously, patting the top of Dipper's head. Dipper squeezed a little tighter, ceasing his rubbing just long enough to lift his head and kiss Henry's cheek before going back to nuzzling Henry's chest.

 

“Henry,” Dipper repeated, muffled. “Love. Henry. Love you. Love _you_.”

 

“Um...I love you, too,” Henry replied, still at a bit of a loss.

 

He really still wasn't sure how to deal with displays like this, most of the time. He knew, in his head, that he was as worthy of love as anyone else, and he knew he loved his wife and kids, his brother and their family, but sometimes it was still hard to believe they loved him back.

 

Especially when Dipper got drunk and reminded him that this was how they loved him – unreserved, unrestricted, without him having to 'earn' it somehow, just for being him.

 

There was still a part of him that wondered if some day he was going to turn into his father, but it wasn't as strong as it once was, and grew smaller every hour, every day that he was loved so deeply, only flaring up at the darkest moments. It was easier, now, to accept that the others meant it when they said they loved him and that he was find just as he was.

 

Dipper usually wasn't this demonstrative about it, though – he usually just showed it in little ways. Like clinging to Henry's head or surprise hugs, or just surprise bouts of cuddling. Thankfully some of the ways Dipper had once used, like the 'bringing home small, dead (usually inside out) creatures' he'd managed to quit on his own for more human ones, and the extreme cuddling was left for especially emotional or bad days, or when he was drunk (or stoned out of his mind).

 

Right now, though, he definitely wasn't drunk, but he was cuddling close as he could, arms wrapped tight around his brother and rubbing his cheek against Henry's chest, nuzzling and purring, with the occasional muffled word thrown in, a happy little grin on his face and whole body rumbling with the force of his purring.

 

He was purring hard enough it was even making Henry vibrate, just a little. Occasionally he lifted his head enough to plaster kisses over every part of Henry's face he could reach, and Henry didn't bother trying to stop him. It wasn't like Dipper hadn't done it before.

 

But at the moment, who could blame Henry if he took the opportunity to squeeze his brother and take the hug, just one, when he already was feeling so lost? And they'd thought they'd lost Dipper, but here was part of him, warm and solid and his hair soft against Henry's cheek, content to hold and be held as they sprawled on the grass.

 

After a few minutes he sat the rest of the way up, arms loosening their death grip from around Dipper, though he left them still loosely draped around his brother, who quietly protested the jostling but didn't loosen his own grip.

 

Sauron, he noticed, was standing guard, while Baaaaab seemed more interested in watching the two of them.

 

Henry sighed again, running a hand over Dipper's hair as the demon curled up in his lap rather than sprawling across Henry. “So...what now?” Henry said out loud, softly, as Baaaaab stepped closer to investigate. “I guess we have to start moving again, see if we can find anyone else and more Dipper.”

 

Sauron gave a little baa of confirmation as Baaaaab nudged at Dipper's elbow. Dipper pulled his face from the crook of Henry's neck and grinned at the nightmare, letting go of Henry with one arm to reach for Baaaaab and ruffle the sheep's wool, scratching between his horns and cooing affectionate nonsense.

 

He still seemed disinclined to let go of Henry any more than that, though, so after a few hopeful moments Henry sighed and started the delicate process of standing up while a clingy, sharp clawed demon was trying to hang onto you.

 

It was a bit like standing up with a cat determined not to leave your lap, only with much longer limbs involved, and a cat that actually could continue to cling to you after you were upright.

 

The main trick was not getting clawed too badly as Dipper held on – or convincing Dipper that yes, Henry _did_ need to stand up now, they couldn't keep sitting.

 

Thankfully for Henry, so long as he didn't try and shake Dipper off or make him stop loving on him, his brother seemed inclined to let him do what he wanted.

 

* * *

 

Dipper kept clinging as the foursome made their way through the woods, occasionally nuzzling at Henry's neck or hair, or kissing whatever of Henry's face he could reach, but mostly content to wrap himself around Henry, bury his face in Henry's shoulder, and purr, mixed with the occasional words of endearment and declarations of love.

 

On the one hand, Henry appreciated it. He knew his brother loved them, but it was comforting to see just how strong that love was.

 

On the other...being clung to and the random kisses were starting to get a little old, especially as Dipper's kisses sometimes left a brief numbness.

 

Also, for someone who could float, Dipper was kind of heavy. One would think he would be weightless, but there was just enough weight there that Henry's arms were starting to get tired.

 

The one time he hinted to Dipper about maybe floating alongside him instead of clinging, though, Dipper had looked so hurt that Henry had immediately dropped the suggestion. He rubbed a hand over his brother's back and smiled, amused and touched despite himself.

 

Sure, sometimes Dipper got to be a bit much, like a cat that couldn't take a hint, and he loved to yank Henry's chain and irritate his family, but, well...sometimes it felt good to have someone so willing to say they loved him. Goodness knew he hadn't gotten anything even remotely close to the open love the twins showered on him before he'd met them. He'd deal with a bit much for that.

 

Didn't mean he wasn't going to pass Dipper on to whoever he found to get a little bit of a break before he went completely numb, but for now...he gave the demon in his arms a bit tighter of a hug, and Dipper responded enthusiastically, purring harder than before and making Henry's whole chest rumble.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Henry saw some of the...things...hanging from his antlers trembling with the force of Dipper's purring and he stoutly ignored them as he gave Dipper's head a quick rub.

 

The nightmares seemed to mostly be amused by their master's clingy state, though Henry noticed they also didn't want left out. They would come up close and nuzzle at Dipper's hanging foot, making the demon giggle. The action was followed by a scratch behind their ears or some other loving caress, though, Dipper's arm growing longer so he could reach them without letting go of Henry. The nightmares were eating it up, and Henry was starting to think they were more interested in Dipper than they were in watching for trouble.

 

Not that he could blame them, really. They were as touch starved as he'd been, once, maybe even more so since they hadn't known of loving, gentle touches until they'd come to Dipper.

 

It was too bad Dipper was insisting on riding Henry instead of Sauron or Baaaaab, but, well, that was Dipper for you. For now, he kept clinging as Henry kept walking, snuggling and hugging, purring and occasionally raising his head just enough to kiss Henry, aiming for the cheek but not always hitting what he aimed for.

 

* * *

 

Henry had lost track of how long he'd been walking. Sauron, at least, had some kind of 'scent' that he was following, though he couldn't tell Henry just yet what it was beyond 'something of the Master's', which could have meant anything from another aspect to a place to a person.

 

Though right now, it would be nice to find another person. Henry knew he could handle himself, and that he was walking with a literal demon in his arms and demon sheep by his side, but this wasn't the forest of Gravity Falls no matter how much it might look like it, and even Dipper would admit there were some terrifying things lingering in his mind, things that had physical form now and were roaming town and woods.

 

Nothing had tried to come at them yet, but it was still tense.

 

Off in the distance, Henry thought he heard a faint sound, like cheering. He exchanged confused looks with Sauron and Baaaaab, both of whom looked as at a loss as Henry felt.

 

Dipper, still cuddling Henry, was oblivious to everything but his loved ones.

 

Still, noise was something, so they shifted directions to start heading closer to it.

 

The cheering got louder as they approached, raucous and angry and bloodthirsty. As they walked, the nightmares closed in around Henry and his passenger, bleating softly at each other.

 

Shifting Dipper's weight, Henry looked down at the two nightmares dubiously. “Let me guess,” he said, “you feel Dipper down there, wherever that noise is coming from.”

 

Sauron nodded, grimly, as he huddled a little closer to Henry's leg, pressing up against it as tight as he could, while Baaaaab bared his teeth in the direction of the noise and pressed against Henry's other side.

 

“A͏n̢d ̶it's̸ ̵not͜ on̸e ǫf͡ his ̨ple͟as̷a͠ņte̶ŗ ͏a̴s҉pec̴ts,̸” Sauron said morosely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mental notes for this chapter boiled down to "Henry deserves a damn break once in awhile".


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that 'Self Harm' tag up there? This is the chapter it applies to. I didn't get very descriptive, but if you want to avoid it, skip out at the break that starts with 'Stan thought the rest of the house was creepy' and rejoin us at the break after that. Also, there's some whispering voices directing some pretty cruel things towards Dipper in this one. I'll put a summary at the bottom of the chapter for anyone who needs/wants to skip sections.

 

Stan groaned as he came to, sprawled out on what felt like grass. He was getting too damn old for this.

 

Something warm and wet slopped over his face, and he cursed as he batted at whatever was licking him.

 

He managed to crack open an eye to glare at the nightmare who'd licked him. Baaazelbub didn't even have the good grace to look ashamed, blinking three red eyes one after the other at Stan innocently.

 

Groknar the Destroyer shoved his head under Stan's back, urging the old man to his feet as he grumbled.

 

“Ugh, fine, I'm up. What even was that?” Stan demanded, stretching as he stood. Things cracked and he grunted, rubbing at his back. He couldn't keep up with all this much longer, there was a reason he'd retired.

 

But the kid needed him, aching bones and all.

 

“We ̷do͟ not̶ k͝n͏ow,̧ bu̴t ̷wę c̷aņ se̵nse͡ par͟t of͏ th͞e ̧Ma̢s̸tȩr n̢e͞arby͟,͏ ” the oldest nightmare replied, giving Stan another little push, “an͢d̡ h̡e needs u̡s. Hu͘rry!̛ ”

 

“Fine, fine. Still creepy to hear you call the kid that,” Stan muttered, hiding his worry as he usually did under grumbling.

 

Scowling, he stared at the house that he knew for a fact wasn't in Gravity Falls, but still in Piedmont, California, far away from all this craziness.

 

It was obviously Mark and Anna's house – he'd visited a few times while the twins were still little, so he remembered the rather ordinary looking house – except it wasn't the house he remembered, not quite.

 

The rest of the town he'd seen so far had been greyscale, but this house, it was...larger than it should have been, twisted, sharp and angry and darker, like the Pines house seen through a nightmare, or one of those twisted, ostensibly for kids but creepy as hell movies by that weirdo producer, yet somehow still the same house. Stan waited, but there was no crack of thunder or flash of lightning, which seemed oddly anticlimactic.

 

Not that the house needed it to look like a twisted nightmare, but it seemed like one of them was missing.

 

Groknar the Destroyer gave him another little nudge when he simply stood and stared at the house, unable just yet to make himself step toward it. “Ugh. You sure he's in there?” he demanded, and Baaazelbub joined Groknar the Destroyer in nudging him this time.

 

“Fine! Fine! Quit pushing, yeesh. Of course the kid would be in the creepy old nightmare house,”Stan muttered, storming toward the door in a show of cranky bravado, to hide the way his legs didn't want to move. It was just a house, get over it. Okay, yeah, a house in Dipper's mindscape the kid was obviously afraid of for some reason, but a house.

 

Despite that, he cracked the door open cautiously, inching his way into the house, with Groknar and Baaazelbub pressed tight to his sides.

 

Despite that, he cracked the door open cautiously, inching his way into the house, with Groknar and Baaazelbub pressed tight to his sides.

 

They crept down the hallway, peeking into rooms that seemed normal at first glance, but were wrong, more wrongness revealing itself with each second. Too close, too jagged, dark and threatening, subtle shadows and wrongness that was hard to make out at first and was even creepier once you'd seen it, and Stan had to inch his way past it, leaning away from splintered edges that caught and tore at his clothes.

 

The walls were lined with crosses, Stars of David, and dreamcatchers, the crosses and stars burning white hot and the only source of light, while the dreamcatchers seemed to be reaching for the trio as they passed, eager and hungry, tacky to the touch the few times Stan misjudged and his hand passed over one, tangling around his fingers and refusing to let go until Stan ripped it off, leaving welts behind.

 

The relationship between the twins and their parents was...well, it wasn't great, but Stan didn't think it was _this_ bad. They certainly hadn't lined their walls like this, that he knew of. The kids would have left before they did if they had. The kids had left for a lot of reasons, like Mabel's general misery and how difficult it was for their parents to accept Dipper being the main ones, but their parents had never done this, never would have. The kids' parents loved them, they just couldn't accept or help them anymore.

 

They were three rooms in (roughly, since it was hard to tell distances in here and the house was proportioned wrong, Stan was sure. He hadn't visited often but he was sure it wasn't this long, this narrow, in reality) when the whispers registered, just on the edge of hearing but getting louder.

 

 

_Monster._

_This is all your fault._

_NEVER should have trusted you._

_trusted you you'll hurt them hurt everyone you love_

_MONSTER                              MONSTER                          MONSTER_

_can't trust you           never should have trusted you!_

_Murderer                         Cursed                                You destroy everything you touch_

_you hurt her               hurt them          hurt him_

_why didn't you just die?_

_would have been better for everyone_

_should have just died_

_die_

_DIE_

_you did this your fault_

_ALL YOUR FAULT ALL YOUR FAULT IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!_

_WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST **DIE!**_

 

Stan shuddered, still making his way down the hallway as the nightmares hissed quietly, pressed tight to his side and snarling at the shadows. The voices sounded like a mix of the twins' parents, but right now, he could hear his father's voice in there too, all of it ground together until it was barely recognizable.

 

 

Soon as he found the kid, he was grabbing Dipper and getting them the hell out of here as fast as he could. This place wasdamn creepy. If the kid was even in here, he didn't want Dipper anywhere near this.

 

Deeper and deeper into the house they went, and it felt like they were going in circles, kept away from whatever part of Dipper was trapped in this place, as if they were never going to find the way out themselves and be trapped walking these hallways forever.

 

Then Groknar let out a cry and darted forward, scraping at a door with his front hooves. “Th͢e̴ Mastȩr̡ ̸is in t҉h̕er̨e, I ca͜n fȩel ͡h̡im,” the nightmare said urgently. He rammed against the wood as the other two caught up to him cralwing and beating on the door, trying twice more before saying “B̡u͏t̵ I c҉ann͠ot̢ ͢get ̵in͡!” in a heartbroken tone that Stan hadn't though anything demonic besides his great-nephew could manage.

 

“Right,” Stan muttered. He grabbed the door and slammed his own shoulder into it, nearly losing his balance when it yielded to him and swung open, although the nightmares were still stopped at the doorway as solidly as they had been before it opened.

 

* * *

 

Stan had thought the rest of the house was creepy, but this room took the proverbial cake...and this from a man who had faced down the literal apocalypse and watched a his demon lose himself to the demon inside him.

 

The room was shadowed, heavy with them, save for the burning, unrelenting spotlight in the center of the room, and the shadows around the edges were moving, undulating softly out of the corner of Stan's eye, going still when he turned to look or moving just enough to make him question what he'd seen, brushing up against the circle of light in the center of the room but never quite crossing into it.

 

There was a huddled mass in the center of that harsh, unforgiving light, curled around itself, looking more like a pile of black fabric than a living thing.

 

As Stan came closer it shifted, moving until Stan could see half of his face, the rest still in shadow, and he recognized his great nephew.

 

The eye he could see was tired beyond human comprehension, the shadows under it dark and sickly. His great nephew was curled around himself so tight it had to hurt, and when he shifted, Stan saw the glitter of gold blood staining the floor under Dipper, thought he saw light glint off metal. Silently Dipper curled up again, hiding his face from view.

 

Stan stepped closer into the room, the shadows reaching for him but never quite touching, retracting each time they came near as if he burned them.

 

“Kid...” he said uncertainly, and Dipper stirred again.

 

“Go away,” Dipper said, the barest echo of reverb to his voice, tired, strained, and flat as it was. His hand moved beneath the veiling of shadow, the shifting of light and shadow the motion made showing the shadows draped around Dipper to be chains, apparently insubstantial as the shadows around them yet so heavy they made each motion an agony, weighing him down until it took all his strength to sit up and to pick up one of the bits of silver around him. That arm was raised, trembling with the weight of the chains wrapped about it, a fork glittering in the light, the added weight of the chain aiding it in plunging deep into the meat of Dipper's thigh with a gush of golden blood running down his leg, splattering across the floor. “I deserve this.”

 

Stan grimaced. “Sheesh, kid, cut down the dramatics,” he said, glancing at the shadows around them as they writhed threateningly, the constant barrage of whispers rising and falling with their movements, a never-ending assault of accusations and cruelty. When Dipper didn't even look at him, he added, “C'mon, kid, nobody deserves something like this.”

 

“...I do,” Dipper whispered, curling in tighter around his knees, pulling them close to his chest. “I couldn't protect my stars. Henry's a monster because of me. I've killed and I hurt and I maimed and I liked it. The world is wrong and it's all my fault. It's all. My. Fault,” he repeated, like a mantra, picked up by the shadows, still whispering, adding “ _Demon”, “Murderer,” “Should have died,” “DIE. DIE. DIE,”_ to their chant.

 

Dipper gave a little sob, and it tore at Stan's heart even as Dipper started to rock back and forth, claws digging into his skin and drawing blood as he sobbed, soft and quiet and broken.

 

Oh hell no. No. Stan was going to be having None of This, thank you.

 

No one was there for him but dammit no one was going to do this to one of his kids, not even themselves!

 

He stormed forward, and each step had Dipper clutching tighter at his arms. “C'mon, kid, we're getting out of here,” Stan said gruffly.

 

He reached down and grabbed Dipper's arm, ignoring the tingling sting of demon blood on his hand, and pulled.

 

Dipper was like a lead weight, refusing to move, eyes still downcast and tears dripping from his face, steady and slow. The chains, made of shadow, dragged him down, and settled once moreover his arms and shoulders as he hit the ground again, wrapping themselves tighter around him.

 

With a snarl, Stan grabbed the chains and started hauling them off Dipper. It was like trying to grab air, air that had just enough substance to get his hands on, slick and oily and heavy, heavier than something so insubstantial had any right to be, when he tried to pull them away while trying to slip through his fingers like smoke and reform into chains.

 

The shadows surrounding them began to writhe and snarl, snapping out towards the pair, never quite touching Stan but cracking close enough to make Stan wince away. A few made it past him and snapped across Dipper's body with sharp cracks, drawing more blood and little cries of pain from Dipper, flinching away from the pain, and Stan roared in anger.

 

The nightmares bleated in terror and rage and charged into the room, the barrier blocking them tearing with resounding rips, their terrified bleating changing to full blown war cries as they fought, catching shadow tentacles on hoof and horn and wing and ripping them away.

 

Stan caught one that was aiming for Dipper, who was still sitting passively, letting them hit him with little cries of pain but no resistance, with a left hook that was sweet and solid. It burned his hand but was flung away from Dipper, who watched silently.

 

With the pair of nightmares covering them, the last of the chains dissolved, and Stan grabbed Dipper's arm up near the shoulder and hauled him up.

 

When Dipper still sagged and didn't get to his feet Stan hauled him up higher with a grunt, slinging Dipper's arm over his shoulder and hauling the boy out of the room bodily. His legs threatened to buckle and give out under the weight, but stubbornness and adrenaline kept them upright.

 

After a few seconds, Dipper buried his face in Stan's shoulder, though he was still passive and limp across his back.

 

The whispers went wild as Stan hauled Dipper out of the house, louder and wilder and angrier than ever.

 

_MURDERER!              NEVER LEAVE!                              SHOULD DIE HERE!_

_NO ESCAPE                  MONSTER_

_DEMONDEMONDEMON_

_ALL YOUR FAULT!_

 

“ _Would you shut it?!”_ Stan bellowed, hitting the door with his shoulder at full speed. He and Dipper tumbled head over heels, the nightmares still going at full speed behind them.

 

The human and demon landed in a pile, with the house seething behind them, shadows boiling around the entrance but unable to leave.

 

* * *

 

Stan levered himself up with a groan for the second time in one day, the nightmares trotting up to the pair with worried little bleats. His back was screaming at him, arms and legs aching and almost too sore to move. He really was getting too old for this.

 

Dipper only levered himself up enough to sit upright, face covered in golden tears, clothing torn and stained with golden blood, his ears limp and dejected.

 

The pair was silent for awhile, the house behind them slowly calming until it looked like the somewhat innocent house it had been before Stan had passed through its door.

 

Stan was still trying to catch his breath, not sure what to say to his nephew, when Dipper finally spoke, faint and barely audible over Stan's harsh breathing.

 

“You should have left me there,” he said, claw tip passing over one of the punctures in his arm (the forks having been lost in the mad dash to the door). “It's what I deserve.”

 

Stan winced. He wasn't good with this emotional stuff – his dad had forced that out of him early – but it looked like he was going to have to give it a try.

 

He knew Dipper got himself into funks, but he hadn't really thought they were this bad. Served him right for not noticing, he supposed. Usually Mabel was there when her brother started to get like this, or Henry. Someone who had some clue how to deal with this. Dipper tried to keep hold of himself when the kids were around. One of them usually knocked him out of these fits and, come to think of it, usually just told him to stop being mopey. Which, hey, normally worked, but looked like it wasn't going to help right now.

 

But yeesh, it was like the kid blamed himself for everything that had gone wrong since the Transcendence.

 

...heh. Two guesses where the kid got that from.

 

Grunting, Stan found a log and forced himself to his feet with many a groan and a wince as each individual ache and pain demanded its say, staggering over to sat down on it, wincing. “Get up here, would you?” he said. “Can't sit on the ground at my age.”

 

Dipper looked up at him through his bangs, still curled around himself, but eventually, slowly and reluctantly uncurled and floated just enough to make it onto the log beside Stan.

 

Once seated, he curled around himself again, the little wings coming back to wrap around his arms and legs as he looked anywhere but at Stan or the nightmares.

 

Stan was aware of his surroundings enough to bite back the groan. Kid felt bad enough as it was, didn't need him letting frustration with himself make the kid feel worse.

 

“Look, kid,” Stan said gruffly. He paused and scrubbed a hand over his face, shoving his glasses up out of the way. “I'm no good at this. You kids know that. But I do know you gotta learn to let things go. If you don't, they'll eat up you inside,” he said, pointing a thumb at the house they'd just escaped. “Case in point. Holdin' grudges and takin' the blame for things left me without a family for forty years. Ya don't want to follow my example here, kid.”

 

Dipper seemed to shrink into himself even more. “But I really did all these things, Grunkle Stan,” he said, in a tiny voice that hurt to hear. “I killed people, and I tortured them, and sometimes I liked it.”

 

“Ya protected yer family, Dipper,” Stan said firmly.

 

“They weren't all threatening my family,” Dipper said, still softly, stroking Baaazelbub's head when the nightmares shoved it in his lap.

 

“Kid, it doesn't matter. Ya gotta protect yourself an' the folks that ya needed to protect.” Stan sighed, heavily, feeling the weight of all his years, all the things he'd done, sometimes in defense and sometimes because he had to – or even sometimes just because he'd wanted to, because life could make you hard sometimes – weighing down on him. “Look, I get it. Sometimes ya get caught up, ya do things ya never thought you could do. But you can't keep doing this to yourself, kid. You're gettin' into a bad place, and you're gonna do worse like that. You're hurtin' everyone when you can't let go like that.”

 

Dipper, bless him, was a stubborn Pines through and through. “I _should_ hurt,” he said bluntly. “I did those things, and there wasn't an excuse for them.”

 

“All you're doing is hurtin' Mabel an' Henry an' the kids,” Stan shot back, utterly at the end of his patience with Dipper's stubbornness, despite knowing this was part of Dipper's personality and therefore probably not likely to be easily talked down. “Are they the ones you want to punish, kid? Because that's what you're doing!”

 

Dipper's mouth opened and closed several times before he huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. Baaazelbub nuzzled at Dipper's hand in an attempt at comfort, while Groknar the Destroyer watched from a few steps away.

 

“I̵ do not kņo͘w͏ ͘h͘ow̢ to ̶c̸om͠f̕o̢r͢t ͜y͏ou,” he said, in his eldritch, terrifying, yet still containing overtones of bleating, voice. “No other master, no other demon has cared as you do. You are not like the others. No demon has ever been born who could regret. And yet you do. You _regret_.” The nightmare stepped closer to look up at Dipper's face, glowing red eyes intent. “But even we can tell that you are destroying yourself by letting it eat you from inside.”

 

Dipper was quiet, still stroking Baaazelbub, but he seemed to be listening now. Wordlessly he buried his face in Grunkle Stan's arm, falling against his chest when Stan raised his arm and laid it around his nephew.

 

“Get a little rest, kid,” Stan said, grateful for the respite himself. With his age, and everything he'd done today, he needed it, especially at times like these, when he needed to be the man he was twenty, even ten years ago, physically. But at least he was apparently better equipped for this emotionally than he had been those twenty or ten years ago. He slung an arm around Dipper's shoulders in a rare show of affection that the aspect stiffened at before melting into his side, clutching at Stan's shirt hesitantly. “Then we'd better get you put back together. I'm not cut out for this.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes: anyone see that sneaky little reference in there? I couldn't help myself.
> 
>  
> 
> The promised summary, quick and dirty: Stan has found Dipper's remorse in a house that is a twisted rendition of the twin's home back in Piedmont, one that had whispers yelling at Dipper, blaming him for everything that's happened.
> 
>  
> 
> The 'self harm' section is where Stan actually finds Dipper, mostly harming with forks but also with the recriminating words, and a fight between Stan, the nightmares, and the shadows to get Dipper out of there.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucy Ann skidded to a stop, cat-like vampiric reflexes twisting her to land on her feet and keep her balance in a perfect landing. She stood, brushing herself off, pleased with herself.

 

Which was exactly when the tumbling ball of wool, spines, and legs that was a flying nightmare slammed into her, ruining the perfect landing and sending both of them tumbling.

 

Lucy Ann ended up with a mouthful of wool and a ridiculously heavy sheep sprawled on top of her, waving its multitude of limbs in the air and bleating pathetically. She promptly punched it, giving it a shove when it didn't get off her fast enough.

 

Baaasly baaed at her reproachfully as they scrambled to their feet and backed away from the tiny vampire.

 

They aimed an ill-tempered, if light, kick at the nightmare that trotted up to join them when Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire snorted laughter at their misfortune. Lucy Ann ignored them both for the moment as she got herself back in order and got the wool out of her mouth.

 

“Okay, knock it off you two,” she called back at them when their shoving threatened to turn into a scuffle. Planting her hands on her hips, she glared around them, irritated by the scenery and the situation in general. “So where'd we end up, anyway?”

 

The two nightmares looked around, stepping closer to bracket Lucy Ann. She squawked and flailed as she was again surrounded by black wool, completely enveloped in the faintly sticky, sweet smelling mass. Complaining the whole way and spitting yet wool as it got into her mouth, she shoved her way out from between them. “You're taller than me, I can't see!” she snapped when they looked at her with confusion tinged with hurt. “No laughing!” she added, pointing firmly at Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire.

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire looked away, clearly pretending to be affronted, while Baaasly fake-coughed to cover a clear laugh.

 

Lucy Ann rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored their antics, scanning their surroundings to try and see where they'd landed.

 

Eventually Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire knelt down beside her and allowed the tiny vampire to climb onto his back so she could see farther. Lucy Ann didn't really need the height, but she climbed on anyway.

 

Riding Dipper's nightmares always amused her anyway, so she figured she may as well find something to enjoy about this mess.

 

The most Lucy Ann could tell at the moment was that she was somewhere in town, but where exactly she wasn't sure. Not that that really surprised her. With the nightmare creatures roaming around and the area being warped by the demonic dork's mental state, she almost would have been more surprised if she'd recognized where she was.

 

“Okay,” she said finally. “I'm at a loss here. You two got any ideas?”

 

“We can sense aspects of the Master,” Baaasly offered. “They're faint, but there. Perhaps we could collect a few and find our way to the Shack with them in tow, to help the Master and free the Falls?”

 

Lucy Ann considered the suggestion for a few seconds before pointing at Baaasly. “Practical. Good. I like you. Let's get started so we can get this over with,” she declared.

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire, rolled his eyes when she nudged his sides with her heels, but started walking anyway. Only for the Master.

 

The nightmare's hooves echoed as they picked their way down the street, avoiding obstacles and keeping each other in sight. The street looked as if a tornado had gone down it, and Lucy Ann suspected this was one of Dipper's memories shaping the area. It made her think of the stories Dipper and Wendy had shared about the days leading up to the Transcendence. The sky overhead was orange, streaked with fire, tinting the streets and all the debris that littered it, windows broken in the surrounding buildings scattering the street with glass and the doors leaning on broken hinges, creaking open with each errant breath of air.

 

“Remind me to give that dork a smack when we get him put back together,” Lucy Ann muttered. The nightmares grumbled, shifting uncomfortably as they walked, and she heaved a sigh that was almost bigger than she was. “Yeah, yeah, he'll get the sympathy and therapy after the smack. The way we're going, Hank's gonna have to hire a full time shrink for us. Only mafia in the world with a therapist on the payroll...”

 

She kept muttering as the nightmares started walking again. To the casual observer, she would have seemed utterly oblivious to her surroundings, depending on the nightmares for protection.

 

As was often the case, the casual observer would have been very, very wrong.

 

* * *

 

Time moved oddly in this blend of Mindscape and Gravity Falls, so Lucy Ann wasn't sure how long they'd been searching when Baaasly suddenly looked toward a building down the road on the other side of the block, one of the few still intact.

 

“I believe I sense an aspect of the Master,” they announced. “I cannot tell just which, but part of him all the same.”

 

“How'd this happen anyway?” Lucy Ann asked. “Not the being split apart bit, I know you don't know that, and we're going to drag it out of the dork after we shove him back together. But this whole 'this part of him gets an aspect but this doesn't' bit?”

 

Baaasly gave the closest approximation of a shrug that a four legged creature could give. “This is all new territory,” they said. “So we don't know how the Master has managed this, or why, or how. You'll have to ask him once it's all over.”

 

Lucy Ann sighed. “Trust that dork to make things difficult,” she huffed, though she was worried about the idiot. He'd been off ever since everything had gone down two month ago, but no, don't ask for help, he's fine, he's a demon, he could handle this...Bull. Shit.

 

Lucy Ann was shaken from her half worried, half irritated thoughts by the nightmares pausing in front of the building Baaasly had indicated. She peered up at it, trying to figure out just what it was. It looked worn, abandoned, though not as destroyed as the buildings along the rest of the street. Simply worn and old.

 

“Well, this doesn't belong in Gravity Falls,” she finally muttered. “You two sure part of him's in there?”

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire, huffed, insulted, while Baaasly tossed their head and pawed at the ground, equally huffy.

 

Lucy Ann snickered at them as she began to slide down off of Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire's back. “Come on, you said this was all new,” she said. “You can't get huffy at me for making sure.”

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire shifted before Lucy Ann could climb down, nearly making her fall. Lucy Ann clutched at the oil slick colored wool, clinging to its side like a burr as she glared at the sheep. “Okay, what the hell?” she snapped.

 

“Perhaps it would be best if you kept riding me,” the nightmare replied, eying the building they were about to enter warily. “It is a close call who is faster, but it will be harder to be separated if you are riding me.”

 

“Aw, is the big bad nightmare scared?” Lucy Ann teased as she climbed back up. “Okay, I'm riding. Hi ho, Silver, away!”

 

“My name is Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire,” Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire muttered as Baaasly cackled. Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire hip checked the other nightmare as he passed, head high and sulking, into the building.

 

* * *

 

It was surprisingly bright inside the building, despite its crumbling, off putting exterior. The hallways were crooked and longer than they should have been, twisting off into the distance, no single line of them ninety degrees.

 

In fact, after the trio had gone down a few corridors, hooves sinking into the out of place plush carpeting, it finally struck Lucy Ann just what the building reminded her of.

 

Take the former Mystery Shack, combine it with the Library of the Paranormal, add in a museum, and toss in a dash of Alice in Wonderland inspired architecture, and it would start to resemble the building they were going through.

 

Up until that point, Lucy Ann had been averting her eyes from the things...exhibits?...that had started popping up on display the deeper they went into the building. Mostly because, while she had seen some crazy, horrific things in her long life, the sort of things a demon would display could turn even her stomach.

 

And she knew that, dork or not, Dipper was still a demon now, and he'd done terrible things. Sometimes to people who deserved it, sometimes not quite. And sometimes, there had been...trophies.

 

Hell, she'd helped! Sometimes, the trophies belonged to her, even.

 

With that thought in mind, Lucy Ann made herself stop focusing solely on where they were going and look around herself properly. The things on the pedestals did look a lot like trophies and exhibits, while on the walls were paintings, maps, and pages of information.

 

Lucy Ann knew she had superior eyesight to humans, but even so, she steered Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire closer to the wall so she could get a better look, unable to believe her supernatural eyes.

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire baaed a little with annoyance but walked closer to the wall despite that, still keeping his eyes open for dangers or his Master.

 

Inappropriate as it might have been, Lucy Ann could barely hold back the laughter. “Would you two look at this?” she demanded, gesturing at everything around them. “These are all about that dork! Okay, mostly,” she amended, as they passed by a photo of the baby triplets proclaiming them to have been the 'cutest babies ever'. “But it's all bragging, about things he's pulled off, with a couple things about the family tossed in! ...with a few disturbing ones mixed in,” she added as they passed by one that dripped demonic blood, a set of horns from one of the demons Dipper had fought.

 

“The Master does have cause to be proud of his accomplishments,” Baaasly said a touch defensively as they passed a statue of a triumphant Dipper hovering over his defeated enemies.

 

“There's a difference between pride and vanity,” Lucy Ann commented, looking at another set of pictures as Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire walked past them. “And this is cutting it close.”

 

Baaasly snickered, and they kept walking.

 

The two nightmares picked up the pace a little, turning right down this corridor, left through that one, following the feeling of their Master's presence.

 

Lucy Ann, for her part, was totally lost at this point, having had them go through one too many circles (and she would swear at one point they had gone through a door that hadn't been there a minute before, and down a corridor that looped back on itself and crossed itself at one point).

 

Then the nightmares stepped into a huge, echoing room, pausing as the click of their hooves on the tile reflected back at them.

 

The lights in the pitch black room came up in a flash, leaving both nightmare and vampire blinded for a few precious seconds.

 

They trio blinked the last sparkles out of their eyes and glared into the room as if it had personally offended them. Slowly Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire placed hoof in the room and made his way in, with Baaasly close at his side.

 

It was a cavernous room, far too large for the building they'd entered, with walls and floor of echoing black marble veined in gold. There was a strip of carpet on the floor, red as fresh blood, leading to the other end of the room.

 

The focal point of the entire room was a dais, several feet up from the floor, upon which sat a large golden throne, elaborately carved with stars and upholstered in more thick red velvet.

 

And lounging on that throne was an adult Dipper, wearing the most formal of his suits, the gold chains draped over his wings and the jewelry on ears and hands he broke out for times he wanted to make an impression in place. His legs were draped over one arm of the throne while his back was braced lightly on the other, watching out of the corner of his eye as two of his nightmares and his friend entered the room.

 

The nightmares slowly made their way up the carpet towards their Master, watching him warily, before stopping a food six feet away from the stairs. As soon as Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire came to a stop Lucy Ann slid off his back, ignoring the soft bleats of the nightmares as she strode towards the lounging Dipper.

 

Lucy Ann stomped her way up the dais stairs, muttering under her breath about ridiculous demons and excessive stairs as she did.

 

Finally reaching the top, she planted tiny fists on tiny hips, giving Dipper a glare that was anything but tiny. Dipper smiled at her, eyes hooded and pride sparking along the edges of his smirk.

 

“...seriously?” Lucy Ann said, crossing her arms. “You're vain enough it gets its own aspect?”

 

Dipper's Vanity gave a little sniff, looking deliberately away from Lucy Ann. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off the headache she just knew dealing with this part of Dipper was going to give her.

 

“Okay, I get that you've done things you can be proud of,” she said, a rare occurrence from her, “but this place is taking it a bit far. A throne?” she added, her free hand gesturing at the room around them. “Seriously?”

 

“Why not?” Vanity demanded, stretching across the throne like a contented cat. “I'm the most powerful demon in the world, why shouldn't I have a throne?”

 

Lucy Ann paused for a moment before going straight for the weak spot, hoping she remembered Dipper's stories of Weirdmaggeddon correctly. “Because Bill had a throne.”

 

Vanity shot off the throne like it was on fire, and Lucy Ann contented herself with a smirk. Huffily crossing his arms as he floated, Vanity pouted. “Bill's was made of human agony,” he said sulkily. “They're completely different.”

 

He didn't go near the throne to sit back down, Lucy Ann noticed, despite his protests.

 

Vanity noticed Lucy Ann's smirk and bristled. “It's a good throne,” he muttered. “Comfy and fancy. Until you ruined it.”

 

Lucy Ann looked him up and down. “Odd, I figured your ego would be bigger,” she mused. “Like, lay waste to Tokyo sized.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

Lucy Ann rolled her eyes, still smirking, and started walking down the stairs. “Come on, you giant goof. Let's get you put together so I can yell at you properly. Or do I need to get the big guns and find the kids to drag you into it?”

 

Vanity huffed again, like a affronted cat, but followed the tiny vampire. As they passed the displays, he began to brag about them, in the false-modest way he had that meant he wanted praise and attention.

 

At first Lucy Ann ignored him. Then she started rolling her eyes and occasionally reminding him that they were there when it happened, too, dumbass.

 

After the fourth hallway, Lucy Ann looked over at Baaasly with a smirk. “Did you hear the story of this dork versus the Micor shippers at the last Twincon?”

 

Vanity was already blushing and sputtering, moaning a constant “Nooooooooo...” as Lucy Ann gleefully told her story, burying his face in his hands and steam coming out his ears in embarrassment as he trailed after the trio.

 

When she'd finished the story, Lucy Ann smirked up at Vanity. “Want to keep playing? I bet I have an embarrassing story for each and every one you've got to brag about.”

 

“You are pure evil,” Vanity moaned, and Lucy Ann cackled, the nightmares snickering along with her quietly. “Evil. Why are we even friends?”

 

“Aw, you love me and you know it,” she said, punching his leg. Vanity took the hit and didn't deny the accusation, even though he was still blushing. “Now come on, we need you put back together, I don't think I can take just your vanity without wanting to strangle you. That's not an offer either, you weird masochist.”

 

They finally had found the doors by the time Lucy Ann was done speaking and they left the building, Vanity mumbling complaints about not being a masochist and having earned his pride, damn it, the whole time.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Acacia skidded to a stop in a three point landing, shoes kicking up dust and with the bow Aunt Candy had given her ready in her free hand and her brass knuckles ready on her supporting hand.

 

Her assigned sheep, Killer and Darcrack, skidded to a stop beside her, alert and on edge, teeth bared. Killer's short wings were flared, and Darcrack's barbed tail was poised and ready.

 

After a few moments the trio relaxed a touch, straightening from their defensive crouches.

 

“...okay,” Acacia said, hefting the bow she'd picked earlier. It had taken a long time to get used to using one with only one eye, but Pines stubbornness won out in the end. “So that happened. Who votes we find as many bits of Uncle Dipper as we can and drag them back to the Shack so we can make him apologize for scaring us and make him talk it out?”

 

The two nightmares baaed with glee, rearing up a little and kicking their front legs, Killer flapping her tiny wings and Darcrack lashing his tail in approval.

 

“All right then,” Acacia said, projecting cheerfulness and confidence as hard as she could. “Let's go then – either one of you have a lead?”

 

Killer and Darcrack lowered their heads together, conferring quietly. Finally, just when Acacia was starting to really get impatient, waiting with crossed arms and tapping foot, they raised their heads to look at her somberly.

 

“We can sen͡se ̶o̕n͞e, poss̸ib͟ļy t͟wo͞,” Killer said. “B̧u̢t̡ t͟he̕y̧ ̧a͘re̶ n̶o̶t̡ ̕f͡r̷i͜e͠nd̸ly pa͠rt҉s̢ ǫf yo͡ur̶ un̵c̛le, our M̶ast̷er. ͘Th̢e͜y ̴ar͝e ̡dangȩrou͠s.”

 

Acacia scowled, squaring her shoulders. “Uncle Dipper can't recover unless we find all the pieces, though, right?”

 

Obviously reluctant, Killer and Darcrack agreed that that was, in fact, the case.

 

“Then we got find all the pieces,” Acacia said firmly. “Come on, let's get moving. What're you so scared of? We're some of the scariest things around here.”

 

“Not as͠ s͝c̨ar͜y͠ a͏s ̧t͡h̡e̡ ͜Ma͏ster m̴ig͜ht ̸b͝e͜...” Killer whispered, scuffing a hoof against the leaves underfoot, Darcrack nodding agreement beside the tiny, normally fearless nightmare.

 

Acacia shot a grin at the nightmares over her shoulder. “Anybody tell you about the time Uncle Dipper scared the shit out of me? I've got him back since but man, does he still feel so guilty...”

 

Ears pricking forward, the nightmares trotted up to flank their human.

 

“Bu̡t̛ th̵e M͡a͜s͜t͝e͢r̡ c͞ares͝ abo̸ut y͢o͡u͜ a͢n̵d ̴y̕o̸ur ̶s͢ib̡li͞n̷g͝s͢ ͡m̸or̶e̛ ͘than̶ a̛n͘ythi͢n̸ģ,” Killer said, and Acacia laughed again, less forced than before.

 

“Yeah, but he still screws up. Okay, so were were five, okay? And this cultist decides to come visit...”

 

* * *

 

The three continued to tell stories as they walked, distracting each other from the forest they were walking through. Not that they were truly distracted, as all three were still on alert for anything that might come at them, but it helped to keep them from letting their fears get the better of them.

 

Acacia was also trying to keep a hold on her temper, and she was mostly succeeding, but oh, part of her was so, so angry with her uncle right now. He tried so hard to protect them, and this was what happened, because he refused to tell them just how much he was hurting!

 

A little voice tried to remind her of all the times Acacia did the same thing, to try and keep from worrying her family, or when her sister did the same, but fear, of the situation and for her family and most of all for her uncle, who was hurting so badly he had torn himself apart because of it, fed the anger and drowned out the reasonable voice.

 

* * *

 

The trio heard cheering off in the distance and changed their direction to follow the sound. Cheering meant something, at least, and activity of that level here probably meant Uncle Dipper.

 

Or part of him, at least.

 

“This where you sense Uncle Dipper?” Acacia asked softly as they approached the edge of the trees.

 

The nightmares nodded, silently.

 

All three came to an abrupt stop as they exited the forest, struck dumb by the sight in front of them.

 

 

Gravity Falls had some odd architecture, to say the least. The Mystery Shack turned Library was up there on the list, but even so, alongside the normal buildings were some pretty odd things built over the years.

 

Despite all of that, there had never been a Roman style coliseum before, no matter how weird Gravity Falls had gotten.

 

Acacia was a little surprised by that, in retrospect. They had held weekly or bi-weekly Demon Sheep Rallies that were just as intense at times, sometimes even more intense, as Monster Truck Rallies...so why hadn't they ever made something to contain that, rather than converting the old pit from some demon battle her uncle had fought before she and her siblings had been born?

 

Still, that didn't matter now. What mattered was, there was a huge Roman style coliseum in the middle of the Gravity Falls woods, and why the hell was there a Roman style coliseum in the middle of the freaking woods?

 

* * *

 

Still at the edge of the woods, Acacia glanced down at the nightmares. It was barely a flicker of her eyes, unwilling to take her gaze off the incongruous coliseum any longer than she had to.

 

“Let me guess – in there,” she said. The sheep baa-ed a little, shifting their weight and nodding, almost as if ashamed that the answer was yes. “Of course he is. Ugh. Uncle Dipper, why can't anything ever be easy?”

 

The nightmares baa-ed nervously, laughing at Acacia's exaggerated disgust but too nervous to let go enough to laugh properly.

 

“Come on,” Acacia said, feeling the first stirrings of anger that wasn't born solely of worry. What the hell was her Uncle doing in that thing? Why wasn't he out here, trying to get back together and talk to everyone? If he was just lounging around in there, they were going to have problems!

 

Dammit, they were all stronger than this! He was supposed to be stronger than this!

 

Scowling, Acacia unslung her bow from over her shoulder where she'd stored it while walking, pulling out an arrow. She tapped the pockets she'd sewn into her suit, making sure her spare brass knuckles were ready and the knives she'd slipped into hidden holsters were loose enough to be drawn at a moment's notice.

 

Nocking the arrow on the bowstring but not yet drawing it, Acacia nodded to her nightmares, who flared wings and tail. “Okay. Let's do this.”

 

* * *

 

The cheering grew louder the closer they came to the coliseum's arena proper, though the crowds making the noise had yet to appear.

 

Acacia kept her bow ready, the nightmares keeping careful pace beside her, all three on edge for the threat they knew was coming.

 

The cheers was louder yet as they entered the shadowed tunnel entrance that led into the main arena. It was long, and dark, with the echoes of the cheering and chanting rebounding off the stone until it was a raucous cacophony, no words discernible in the wave of sound.

 

What they could understand of the roaring was eager for bloodshed and fighting.

 

The three of them edged closer to the light streaming into the end of the tunnel.

 

Still cautious, though it chafed at them all to be so cautious and not go screaming into battle, they paused at the edge of the light and peered into the coliseum.

 

The roaring said that the bleachers around the sand covered arena should have been full, and they were, but something was wrong about the crowds.

 

Acacia squinted against the light, and suddenly it clicked.

 

Every single person in the audience was her Uncle Dipper. “Are those all facets?” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth at Killer, who edged up closer to her side to see.

 

“No̷,” she hissed back, and when a nightmare hissed, there was no other word for the sound, so unlike a human's attempt. “B͞ut ̨t̛h̕e ǫn͘e in͜ ̢th͘e box s̢eat ͠įs.̸ T͡he̷ ̕rest a̛r̨e͝ ̧il̢lu̶si̡o̴ns̡, p͢a͠rt o̷f͠ ͜th̢at͠ o̶n͢e ̕f̷a̛cet.̕”

 

“...so we drag that one out of here, and the rest'll disappear?” Acacia whispered back, looking around the arena cautiously.

 

“It's as s̷o͝un͟d a̕ t͟heo̢r̶y a̢s͝ an̴y,͝” Darcrack said as quietly as possible for a nightmare whose voice could rival a full blown demon's, tail still held at the ready and pressed close to his herd mate. “I c̡an͠no̡t ̶see̴, ͏wha̸t ͡i͠s̢ f͘i͠ght҉i͢n̸g̵ ̴in ̛th͢e̕r͜e͜?”

 

Acacia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She'd been avoiding looking into the arena proper, knowing she was probably going to get angry as soon as she did.

 

Bracing herself against the tunnel wall, Acacia edged her way even closer to the light. Once she was by the edge, she took another deep breath, reminded herself to stay calm, and slowly leaned around to peek into the coliseum.

 

Although outside the coliseum it was grey and cloudy, inside it was blindingly bright, sun reflecting off the sand like the beach at noon on a summer's day.

 

The stands were filled with Uncle Dipper, but from this angle they looked less solid than they had from farther away, faintly transparent and unreal.

 

The sand was bloody, with the sharp copper tang that was hard to ignore hanging in the air, and in this place it was hard to tell if it was real or illusion.

 

Two creatures were fighting, monsters like the ones that had been roaming the town proper, in the center of the arena. Blood flew as they clashed, teeth and claws scrabbling for a hold on the other, hooves digging into the sand as they battled for dominance, wounds streaming a blackish blood as they tore into each other, staining the sand of the arena.

 

Across the arena, Acacia spotted the box seat Killer had mentioned. In it she could make out her uncle, solid as she was. He was seated comfortably in the shade, eyes fastened on the fight down below.

 

Even from this distance she could see the intentness of his gaze, the way his forked tongue (which he usually kept human shaped, so its presence said a lot about her uncle's state of mind) would flicker out and run along his lips hungrily. His claws had left gouges on the balcony of the box set, though at the moment one hand rested lightly on the arm of his chair while his other elbow was braced on the opposite arm, chin propped on his upraised fist.

 

In the shadow of the box seat, Acacia could see her uncle's eyes glowing. He looked, to Acacia's expert eye, to be smug, satisfied, and thoroughly enjoying himself and the bloodshed that was being caused for his entertainment.

 

He...he was...enjoying this? What...okay. Right. Acacia knew her uncle had aspects of himself he tried to hide from them, mostly because of how so many of those parts of himself were linked to being a demon, but he didn't always do the best job of it. She knew that, she knew he enjoyed bloodshed and violence more than a normal Pines.

 

And she knew she should be sympathetic, that something terrible had to have happened to make him react like this. That he never would have willingly put them in danger just to sit around and watch blood and pain and death. That something was wrong.

 

But damn it, they were all scared, and no one knew what was going on, and he was sitting here in an arena watching monsters fight for his amusement!

 

Infuriated, Acacia stormed out into the arena as the one of the monsters slashed through the other creature's throat in a lucky strike. Blood sprayed across the arena, surprisingly red from the death wound for the nightmarish creature that it had come from, with the same coppery tang to the air of human blood.

 

It soaked into the already tainted sand, sand that crunched under Acacia's furious feet as she strode into the arena.

 

The body of the dying creature was dissolving, the particles shifting into the sand and caking Acacia's shoes as she stormed through the last of it.

 

The surviving creature backed away, head down and to the side, steadfastly not looking at the woman. It pressed itself against the wall of the arena, legs shaking and panting.

 

Acacia had the arrow shot before she could second guess herself, temper taking the reins and knowing as she shot that her uncle would dodge it easily, but it would get his attention.

 

And it did, and he did, ducking just before the arrow struck, the arrow hitting the wall behind where her uncle's head had been only a split second before with a solid _thunk_ , sinking deeply into the wood.

 

Slowly her uncle straightened, unnaturally slow and quiet.

 

The two stared at each other, Acacia fuming, Dipper silent and cold and inhuman.

 

The look in his eyes reminded Acacia of the few times her uncle had lost himself around them, given in to the demon and its hungers for one reason or another, and hoped like hell even through the anger that he could still recognize who she was.

 

The silence between them stretched, long and tense as a wire ready to snap, and someone was going to end up bleeding in some way from the recoil when it did.

 

Acacia was the one who finally broke the standoff, her temper unable to handle any more. “Uncle Dipper, what the _hell_?”

 

He leaned on the railing, elbows braced on the stone and wrists carelessly crossed, one leg tossed equally carelessly in front of the other. “Whatever do you mean, Pole Star? This is my mindscape, I'm just...” he gestured, gracefully, more gracefully than her dork of an uncle usually managed unless he was halfway to full demon, and a wisp of smoke rose from that gesturing hand. “...playing with it.”

 

“We're all here too, and we need out,” Acacia snarled, “And you're here, just, just...killing things! What the HELL, Uncle Dipper? Since when is 'killing things' playing? What part of him even are you?”

 

The look she received was blank, and cold, and even under the fire of her temper Acacia felt a chill. It was so inhuman, so...not Uncle Dipper.

 

“I'm not ready to be done,” he said bluntly. “I'm not satisfied yet. Go home, child. This is no place for you.”

 

If Acacia had been angry before, she was blindingly furious now. She slipped her bow over her shoulder, slipping a knife out of the sheath under her skirt.

 

“Uncle Dipper, I am _not_ a child,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “And you are stopping this nonsense and coming home with me. What are you, bloodlust or hunger or something?”

 

Dipper's aspect smiled at her coldly, the light glinting off the teeth that Acacia had never feared before now. Not until now, when he was still so hungry for blood, and she wasn't entirely sure that he knew who she was, nickname or not, wasn't entirely sure if he'd recognize her when the blood flowed.

 

“And will you force me, then?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

 

Acacia's grip tightened on the knife, around her brass knuckles. “If I have to,” she snarled.

 

The aspect of her uncle smiled wider, eyes glinting. “So be it.”

 

His form flickered, and in a flash he was there, in front of Acacia. He lunged, claws going wide, but still far too close for comfort.

 

Blinded by anger, Acacia swung back, hearing her uncle's aspect grunt and the shock traveling up her arm as she managed to land the blow.

 

Something roared, and Acacia dodged as two of the creatures that her uncle had been watching fight barreled past her, She wasn't quite fast enough, gaining a cut on her blind side from spikes.

 

Over the rage and the blood pounding in her ears she could hear Killer and Darcrack baaing frantically, unsure of what to do.

 

Did they aid an aspect of their master, or one of the children he loved more than anything?

 

Killer made the decision for them, charging into battle first as was her wont, and taking down the creature aiming for Acacia.

 

Darcrack meanwhile planted himself between Dipper and Acacia. His growl would make lesser demons hesitate, and even this aspect of Dipper was eying him warily.

 

It seemed that, when it came down to it, they decided that their master would prefer they fight him than they stand by and let him hurt his niece.

 

Darcrack and the aspect stared each other down, Dipper's claws twitching a need to draw more blood, fill his mouth with flesh, fighting against the love and loyalty of Family and Flock.

 

Meanwhile Acacia swung, over and over again, dancing and dodging the two creatures that had decided to target her.

 

Whether or not her uncle's aspect would have attacked her again, if he was trying to actually attack or was simply sparring, she couldn't say, and she didn't want to think about it. She couldn't think about it at the moment, as thinking about it was a distraction, and she couldn't afford that right now.

 

Some small part of her mind knew she wasn't blocking every attack, knew that there was blood streaming down her arms, making her grip on her knife slick and treacherous.

 

But the rush of blood was hot in her head, rushing through her body, and this was what it meant to _live._ She cut down one creature, felt it back off, and instead of feeling sorry she had hurt it just felt the rush of elation of a well struck blow.

 

Strike, kick, parry, feel a blow connect, and with the ferocity of her anger was the desire to make these things hurt, make them bleed, and there was no thought involved anymore.

 

There was nothing but her, and the sweet rush of blood, and the fight, and it was good.

 

Then her foot slipped in the sand and blood, sending her down to the floor of the arena, only just catching herself with one hand, scalding it on the burning sand.

 

She blocked the blow the creature sent at her but missed the second, crying out in pain as it connected.

 

* * *

 

Something was roaring, something demonic, Killer or Darcrack or Uncle Dipper, but her name was mixed in with the static and distortion.

 

The blow had knocked her over and the creature leaned over her, its breath in her face, opening a mouth that kept opening, wider and wider, filled with row after row of thin, needlelike teeth.

 

Acacia never wanted to admit to it, but the scream she let out was more fear than anger.

 

Then something hit the creature's side, something that sent it flying across the arena.

 

Acacia rolled over and scrambled to her feet, using Darcrack to help drag herself upwards. The huge nightmare stood solid as rock, uncomplaining as she yanked on his wool to help her stand.

 

The creature Killer had been facing was limping towards them, injured badly but still standing. It was slow now, Killer having dealt a great deal of damage in her protective anger.

 

The creature that had seconds ago been threatening Acacia was trying to defend itself against the tiny nightmare, but this time she had her Master's backup, and he was tearing the creature apart.

 

Acacia had a strong stomach and had seen a great deal of violence in her time in the Pines family business, but even she had to turn away from the carnage.

 

Darcrack was silent, as he usually was, a fact Acacia was grateful for. The sounds changed as the first creature finally was allowed to die and the second was attacked by nightmare and aspect.

 

Maybe it was weak of her, but for once, Acacia didn't look. The sounds were enough.

 

She looked up with the noises finally stopped, still furious but not blindingly so anymore, not now that she'd remembered the rush of the fight herself, and understood a little more what this aspect of her uncle had been feeling. Not much, but a little

 

The aspect of Dipper hovered between the two monsters he'd just ripped to shreds, toes brushing the blood soaked sand. His shoulders shook, harsh breaths ringing out over the suddenly silent arena. The crowds in the stands began to flicker and disappear as Dipper raised his hands, looking at them blindly, flexing the razor sharp claws that had torn through nightmare flesh with such ease, and it had felt so good to rip and tear and rend and see the blood fly...

 

“You're right, I am your uncle's bloodlust,” he said quietly, his back still to his niece. “I'm the part of him that enjoys dealing out pain, and the feel of my claws in meat and the taste of blood, and the rush that comes with fighting. He...I don't like to admit I exist. But I do. I want the blood, and the pain, and I enjoy it. But not yours,” he said in anguish, spinning to face Acacia. “Never yours, or your siblings, or my family's.”

 

A shaking hand reached out to brush against Acacia's cheek, falling to hover over her worst wound. “I never...never your pain. I only want to spare you that. I would do anything to spare you. I never meant to cause you pain.”

 

“...I...I know, Uncle Dipper,” Acacia said, quietly, “But...”

 

He drifted closer and Acacia stood her ground, still furious, but softening, now that she could see her uncle in this aspect of him. “I'll come with you,” he said, the arena beginning to dissolve around them. “I'll come quietly. No more blood. No more fighting. For you, I'll come.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipper gets two zalgo-heavy rants in this one. I've posted them in the bottom notes without the zalgo in case anyone has difficulty reading them.

Though she had some misgivings about this aspect of her uncle – it frightened her, how quickly she had lost herself to the fight and the blood, made her wonder if part of it was his influence – Acacia was sure now that he knew who she was and would keep his word about coming with her quietly.

 

Even if he did keep getting distracted, eyes narrowed and teeth clicking like a cat's chitter as his ears flickered, obviously hearing things in the underbrush that Acacia couldn't, Bloodlust still followed behind his niece and her attendant nightmares as they walked towards the woods.

 

Something rustled the bushes at the other side of the clearing the arena had sat in until so recently and all four swung to face it.

 

Acacia had an arrow to the string without remembering drawing it, waiting for something to show itself.

 

The bushes rustled again, and Bloodlust darted forward, claws ready to rend and tear, teeth bared.

 

A nightmare burst out of the bushes, and Bloodlust checked himself so hard he flipped over in midair and hit the ground hard, leaving a claw gouges in the dirt where he landed.

 

Acacia was sliding the arrow back into her quiver even as Bloodlust was hitting the dirt, both she and the three nightmares holding back a little from him while trying to see if he was okay.

 

He sat up after a few seconds and shook his head, so Acacia decided he was probably fine and turned to look at the nightmare that had come barreling out of the bushes.

 

She recognized Sauron after a glance, and rushed past the nightmare as her father and another nightmare appeared.

 

Acacia might have been an adult, but right now she'd been worried about her family and needed a hug from her dad.

 

Henry grunted a little at the impact. Acacia stepped back after a second to get a better look at what was in her dad's arms before grunting herself as it transferred itself to her in a pouncing leap.

 

“Acacia!” it chirped in her uncle's voice, and started kissing and nuzzling her cheek as it squeezed her tight. “Acacia Acacia Aaaa-caaaaaaaaaaa-ci-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

 

“Um...dad? What...?” she said, shifting until she could get her arms around her passenger to support him properly as he wrapped arms and legs around her torso and rubbed his cheek into her shoulder.

 

Henry, for his part, was shaking out and massaging his arms. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said. “So, um. I found Dipper's Love. Obviously.” He scrubbed at his face, which in the strange light of the Mindscape combined with Reality has a slight glow to it, as if someone had broken open a glowstick and rubbed it all over his face. A common sight after Dipper got drunk and lost all restraint about lavishing the people he loved, especially his beloved brother-in-law, in love and affection. “Can you handle him for a bit? Sorry honey, but I kind of need a break.”

 

Acacia bit back laughter at the look her father gave Love...a mix of fondness and exasperation and love and exhaustion. It was a look she'd seen directed at her uncle many, many times before.

 

Carefully she shifted her uncle's weight, and Henry grinned. “So long as you don't try to put him down, he should be okay,” he said. He glanced over at the aspect of Dipper that was hovering just outside their little circle warily, finally focusing on the scabs and blood on Acacia's arms. “Who did you find, and why are you hurt? Are you okay?”

 

“Bloodlust, a bit of a fight, and yeah. Most of it's not mine,” Acacia said quickly. “And he's promised to come quietly.”

 

Bloodlust crossed his arms and looked away, but stayed silent. Henry looked at him for a few seconds before he sighed.

 

“Guess he would,” he said simply. “For one of us. Sauron thinks he knows a way to the Mystery Shack, we were just checking the noise we heard first. I'm glad we found you. We'd best stick together and see if we can find the Shack.”

 

Acacia grimaced a little but agreed, shifting Love again so her arm with the brass knuckles were free. It wasn't much, but she wanted some weapon, any weapon, available.

 

Okay, so it wasn't going to do her much good when she had her other arm full of a very cuddly Uncle Dipper, but it still felt more secure.

 

“Okay,” she said. “I'm ready if you are.”

 

Henry nodded and turned to Sauron. “Lead the way, please. We need to find the Shack.”

 

The four nightmares looked to each other and nodded before turning into the woods and walking under the trees, with the humans and aspects close behind.

 

* * *

 

Wendy had lost track of just how long she had been walking through the forest. Usually she knew exactly where she was – especially if she was in Gravity Falls' forest – and had a good idea of what time it was, but this? Nothing was acting as it should.

 

It had her on edge, and she walked with her ax in hand, and *** and Broktron were as on edge as she was as they trotted beside her.

 

Because while she trusted Dipper and loved him like one of her brothers, he wasn't quite himself right now, and she'd seen what he could do when he was more demon than Dipper.

 

Wendy really hoped none of the kids found Dipper's darker aspects. Sure they'd lived with him their whole lives, and they were technically adults, but...ugh. So this was what it felt like to be a responsible adult.

 

It sucked.

 

So far, they hadn't come across anything save a few monstrosities, which had mostly fled at the sight of them.

 

After the third time, Wendy stood watching as it galloped off into the distance, hands on hips. “Dude, what is up with these things? The way the ones in town were acting, I figured they'd be ready to go, man.”

 

*** made the shivering motion that was the nightmare equivalent to a shrug. “T̶hi͝s i̷s ̧p̵a͟rtįal̛l̴y tḩe Ma͜s͠ter҉'s̛ m͏i̷nds͠cap͝e,” they commented. “I̛t co̷uld be ͠th̨ey͞ ̕h̢ave k҉nowl̨e̢dge̷ ͝o͘f y̵ou͡ ̧picked ̸u̸p from ̴there, ̵and̛ f͟e̵ar̸ ̡y̶ou̕. The ̢Mast̡er̸ ͢d͟o͟e͝s̢ ͢th̵ink ̧high͞l͘y҉ ǫf ̸yo͟u҉r fig͠hti͝ng͡ ͠s͠k̴i͏lls.”

 

“I̵t's̕ ̕not ͡th̛e onl̸y͝ th҉i̸ng͏ of̨ ͜h͟ers ̛h͢e t͜hi͜nkş h̛įgh͠l҉y of,” Broktron giggled, and it was still incredibly odd and disturbing to hear a nightmare giggle.

 

“Ugh, he doesn't still have that crush on me, does he? I thought he got over that ages ago,” Wendy said, starting to stride through the trees again. She may not have known just where she was going in this not-right forest, but any action was better than waiting around.

 

The nightmares scrambled to catch up. “The ̧Ma҉ste̴r̵ ha͝s ͘nǫ ro̵ma̢n͞t͘ic̶ ͢f̸e͝el̷ings̢ f̢or͜ ͏a̕nyon͝e̴, ͡t͡houg̷h̶ ҉hi͠s̵ l͘ove ̕i͘s̡ ͠v͜a͝st̢,” the first said. “O̷u͞r͟ ҉Mas҉ter's͏ lo͘ve ̸i̧s ͘too ͢pre̛ci͝o͘u҉ş to spe̡ak o̷f ̢ļi̷g͘htly or̛ to̸o͟ ҉mu̢ch͘.”

 

Wendy smirked and ruffled the wool on ***'s head, getting an indignant 'baa' in return.

 

“Such a dork,” she muttered, but fondly.

 

“He t̴hi҉nk͟s͡ ͡y̢ou're̛ 'c͜o͜ol̢'҉,͏ wh͘ate̵v͝er t͘ha̢t͟ ̴me̷a͘n͢s,” Broktron said, speaking the word as if it were foreign and incomprehensible and giving it more syllables than necessary.

 

Wendy grinned, but they heard a noise before she could respond.

 

Immediately all three were on alert again, the nightmares guarding Wendy's back even as she watched theirs, their triangle watching the surrounding forest grimly.

 

The noise came again, a rustling of leaves and an angry sounding huff. This time, Wendy looked up, and thought she made out something in the three overhead.

 

She shaded her eyes with a hand, glaring up into the tree, ax still held ready in her other hand.

 

“...Dipper? Is that you?” she said cautiously.

 

Eyes glowing like a cat's turned to look down at her, the only part of Dipper she could see in the darkness of the tree's canopy. He hissed, softly, teeth flashing, and Wendy was suddenly struck by two things.

 

One, how very sharp those teeth looked at the moment, sharper than Dipper's teeth usually were, the sharpness of anger.

 

The second was how very small his eyes and teeth both looked. Like a child's, not an adult's.

 

The mystery was solved when Dipper dropped from the tree – straight down – to land on the ground in front of Wendy on all fours. He was snarling, teeth bared and eyes glowing and furious...and the size he was at twelve.

 

Wendy didn't relax yet, despite Dipper's sudden and inexplicable decrease in size. She'd dealt with far too many things in her life that were small but still deadly to be fooled by Dipper's tiny size. Plus, no matter their size, his teeth and claws were still razor sharp, and could slice through metal like it was butter when he was angry enough.

 

But seriously, why the hell was he so small?

 

Then there was no more time for wondering as the Dipper aspect shot to his feet and came running at them, screeching.

 

Wendy hefted her ax, ready to swing, but hesitated. She knew hesitating was lethal, but...it was _Dipper_. Aspect or not, it was still part of Dipper!

 

That moment of hesitation was a moment too long.

 

Dipper struck, tiny fists beating against Wendy's hips and waist. The nightmares, who'd been about to step between their Master and his friend, stopped short, utterly at a loss, as the tiny demon wailed.

 

Wendy dropped the ax and grabbed for tiny wrists, barely able to hold on to the thrashing demon.

 

“W̢h̷y?” he demanded. “W̡͋̀͊̄ͪHỶ̯̱ͣ͂̄̉̍͛? Wh͏y͘ di̢d ̢thi̧s ̨h̴ap̵pe҉n҉?! Į̗̻̖T̸̙͇̖̩̉̐̇'ͣͧ̒͆S̩̅̑ͨ͒ ̦̟͖̭͖̼N̷͈͎̥̠̫͈̮O͔̺T̙̮̒̈́̾̌̎ ͈̪̘̑͗ͮ̚F̗̲̃̐ͅA̧̜̦͇̬̼̪͈Ĭ̯̻̺̺̥̙̈́ͧ̾̕R̲̪͎̲͖ͮͫ̈́͆́͑͗ !”

 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there,” Wendy said, shocked. Anger paused, glaring up at her, still scowling, and Wendy, who'd faced down the worst that this new world could throw at her, nearly winced. “Dude, you gotta calm down.”

 

Dipper glared at her, and she heaved a sigh. “Yeah, that never works.” Wendy let go of one of Anger's wrists, standing. “'Specially not when you're all anger.” She started walking, pulling him along, which Dipper objected to, loudly.

 

“Look, man, I don't think any of us get how much anger you're carrying,” Wendy said as she walked, the nightmares falling into place behind them. “And you're right, it's not fair. Why don't you ever say anything?”

 

“...it was better it was me than Mabel,” Anger muttered, kicking at a rock they passed. “But it's no̧t͘ ͞f͟ai̴r. And I keep getting summoned. For things they don't deserve. Or they could do themselves. And they keep killing people to make me do things.͡A̢n͜d i͝t m͏ak̵es҉ m͢e̶ so ͡an͘gry̸!” Dipper's eyes flashed to solid gold as he spoke the last sentence, skin blinking to black and gold brickwork for an instant. “T̡h̸e͡y'ŗe a͡ll͞ s̛o s͜el͠fis̸h, and̷ I͞ h͏ate ̕t̴hem̕!”

 

“Okay, seriously, dude, why don't you ever say things about this? It can't be good for you to keep it bottled up like that,” Wendy commented as she hacked a branch out of the way.

 

“You mean like you keep it bottled up?” Dipper asked, and Wendy groaned.

 

“Yes, okay, like I do,” she admitted. “I never said it was healthy.”

 

“I can't let it out,” Anger muttered, slashing at a tree with his claws, leaving deep gouges as he passed. “I destroy things when I let it out. I boil lakes! I make it r̨a͘i̷n̵ bl͞oo͟d! But it's _n̵ot҉ ͟fa̧i͜r_! I was supposed to grow up with Mabel! We̴ ͠were͘ ̛su̧ppos̡e̡d t̡o ģo͝ to h̴i͘gh͜ ͏sch͜oo̡l̢, a̶n͞d co͢l̢le̵ge̴, a͟n̶͡d ͢w̷e̷͝ ̨̕w͘e͏̛r̡̛e͜ ͏s̸̷u̧p̨̕p̶̕o̵se͘d̷͡ ̧̢͞t̶̛o ͢g̵͡r̸ow̨̨ u̴̷͡p ͢ _t̢͡͏og̶e̸t͝h҉̵̧e͘r̕͝_!̶̡̛͢ I̵̡t͡҉'̧̨̢s͝҉̴ ͠͡n͏̸o̴̡̡t̨̢̕͝ ̵͢͏f̵̕͘a̷̸̵͘͜i͜͟͟͠ !”

 

“Go ahead and keep ranting, dude,” Wendy urged. “Let it all out. Seems like the safest place for it.”

 

Dipper took Wendy's word for it, ranting as they walked, about everything that upset and angered him. His feet left smoking footprints behind him as they walked, his free hand waving wildly in the air, gesturing and pointing and flailing.

 

Wendy wasn't really surprised at how many things got to Dipper, but she was a little surprised at the amount of anger he held inside. She knew her friend could hold a grudge, but this was a bit much.

 

She let him continue to ramble until his arm started to get hot under her hand, until it felt like the skin of her hand was starting to scorch from the heat.

 

Wendy let go with a yelp of pain, throwing Dipper's arm from her. He staggered away, thrown off balance, as Wendy flapped her hand rapidly to cool it.

 

Wendy looked her hand over, but it didn't look like she was actually burned – a faint redness was all she could see, and her hand was a little tender, but it had already started to stop hurting.

 

Dipper, meanwhile, looked stricken. He was still glowing with lines of molten gold, little sparks flaring off his skin like embers from a fire. He took a step away from Wendy, the gold drifting away from his skin in little flares and sparks.

 

Wendy knelt down and Dipper backed away another step, hands coming up to cover his face. “Ug͟h, wh͝y̕ ̸am͟ I̶ ͟so ̕stupid!” he snarled, “I'͞m su̸p̡p̛o̷se͡d̶ ͢to ̨be̛ ̨t̨he ̕s̴ma͝r͢t͜ ̡o͟n̛e͘,̶ ̧a҉nd I̴ ͏can̶'̡t̕ ҉ev̷en ̶re̶memb̕e͡r͏ t̸o͟ ̶con͘t̷r̕o̸l̛ my̢ te̶mper ̕enơu̵gh̸ not ̧to͏ h̕u̢rt͟ ͟my̧ ͏b̶e͜şt҉ ̸fr̨ie͜n̴d̡s”

 

“Dude, stop!” Wendy said, reaching for Dipper. He avoided her hands, but he did stop yelling at himself, looking at her with eyes that were still gold from edge to edge, not a speck of black to be seen.

 

Wendy forced herself not to look away from those inhuman eyes as she spoke. Ugh, she wasn't trained for this. “Look, I get it. You've got a lot of things to be angry about, and you can't let it out or you'll destroy things. But you can't bottle it up, dude. You know that, right?”

 

“...I know that,” Dipper muttered angrily. “I'm not actually twelve anymore.”

 

Wendy laughed and ruffled Dipper's hair, hard, throwing him off balance. “Dude, I know. But part of you still is. I'm just sayin', I learned it the hard way, man. Go, like, claw up some trees or somethin'. Heck, come with me and we can do it together once we're outta here. It'll be, like, bonding or some junk.”

 

That finally drew a smile from Dipper.

 

“Yeah, I think I'd like that,” he said. Wendy grinned back and stood.

 

“Okay then – go ahead and keep ranting, dude, but we gotta keep walking. Everyone's going to meet at the Shack...if the Shack's even in here.”

 

“This way,” Dipper said, setting off through the trees. After a few yards he began ranting again, waving his arms and sending off little sparks as he went. At least it cleared the path for Wendy and the nightmares, who followed in his wake with varying degrees of concern and amusement.

 

* * *

 

Henry, Acacia, Bloodlust, Love, and their nightmare escorts had been walking for what felt like miles through the woods, following Bloodlust's offhand directions.

 

Bloodlust, it seemed, was distracted by every rustle in the bushes, every snap of branch, ready for a fight, almost hungry for one.

 

Henry was watching that aspect fairly closely, but it seemed that while each aspect of Dipper was primarily that part of him, there was enough of the rest of him there to keep him in line. Namely, the part that recognized his family and kept his word to them.

 

Abruptly, Love's ears started to twitch. He sat up in Acacia's arms from where he'd been unashamedly cuddling, sniffing the air.

 

With a happy squeal he shot out of Acacia's arms into the trees, leaving the rest of them to yell with dismay and start to struggle through underbrush to follow.

 

* * *

 

Wendy and Anger had been walking for who only knew how long when there was rustling again from the bushes.

 

Anger and the nightmares paused as Wendy raised her ax, which had barely left her hand since she'd first started walking.

 

Something black came barreling out of the trees towards her and Wendy began to swing, only checking at the last moment as *** cried out, “No, wait! It's the Master!”

 

Wendy cursed as she felt something pull in her arm from the checked blow, the ax biting into a tree by her side and sending chips of wood spraying over them. Then the new aspect of Dipper was on her, latched on and sending her stumbling backwards.

 

The Dipper that had jumped her was already purring, squeezing tightly and chanting her name quietly, in a voice that dripped with love and affection.

 

Wendy relaxed cautiously, not moving. She relaxed farther as Henry and Acacia came crashing through the bushes, with another Dipper at their side and flanked by nightmares.

 

“Oh, good, it's your turn now,” Acacia said with a grin. “Aunt Wendy, meet Love. Dad found him.”

 

Love punctuated Acacia's announcement with a kiss to Wendy's cheek and a cheek mushing nuzzle.

 

“He been doing this to everyone?” Wendy laughed, reaching for her ax. Dipper was clinging to her firmly enough she didn't feel the need to use both arms to support him, just wrapping one around his waist to keep him steady.

 

“Yeah,” Henry said sheepishly. “Sorry, but our arms still need a break. He's heavier than he looks. Acacia found Bloodlust,” he gestured at the slightly sulky Dipper hovering off to the side. “He's promised to come quietly. Who'd you...find...?” he asked hesitantly, watching as the small Dipper began to rant and pace circles again.

 

The forest floor smoked under his feet, leaving charcoal footprints in his wake, but didn't catch fire again.

 

“Anger,” Wendy replied. “He was leading the way towards the Shack. Want to keep going, or want to keep searching for more Dippers?”

 

“Sorry, but we'd better get all our Dippers to the Shack,” Henry said before Acacia could finish her enthusiastic cheer for 'Dipper-hunting with Aunt Wendy'. “It's getting harder to keep them under control, honey,” he said before Acacia could argue. “It won't help if we find one and lose two in the process.”

 

Anger threw his arms up into the air and began to stomp away, leaving a singed trail behind him.

 

“...I think we're supposed to follow,” Wendy said. “Come on, then. Maybe we'll find someone else on the way.”

 

Acacia paused. “I need to find Reina,” she protested.

 

“She's good at keeping her head in a crises,” her father reminded her. “If she's not already at the Shack, then we'll go looking for her. But first...”

 

“Right,” Acacia agreed unhappily. “I just...”

 

The look Henry sent her was full of understanding, and he patted her shoulder as they began to walk.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's rants, non-zalgo-ed:
> 
>  
> 
> “I can't let it out,” Anger muttered, slashing at a tree with his claws, leaving deep gouges as he passed. “I destroy things when I let it out. I boil lakes! I make it rain blood! But it's not fair! I was supposed to grow up with Mabel! We were supposed to go to high school, and college, and we were supposed to grow up together! It's not fair!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Ugh, why am I so stupid!” he snarled. “I'm supposed to be the smart one, and I can't even remember to control my temper enough not to hurt my best friends!”


	12. Chapter 12

Vivienne's landing was less than graceful, a bouncing, skidding roll that ended with her facedown on the ground with a mouthful of grass.

 

She heaved herself up on her elbows, spitting it out in automatic disgust before pausing.

 

The grass...tasted like candy. Sugar and mint, mostly.

 

Of course it did. Why should anything make sense today.

 

Carefully Vivi levered herself up and patted herself down. Thankfully, apart from her dignity and a few scrapes from her landing, nothing else hurt, so she started looking around for clues. At least nobody saw that happen.

 

Horace the Hooved Horror and Zondor the Destructor came trotting out of the woods after a few minutes, just long enough for Vivi to think she was left alone out here.

 

“And where have you two been?” Vivi asked, the two nightmares looking so similar to a pair of her kindergarteners that had been doing something they shouldn't be doing that the tone and question came out automatically.

 

Both sheep reacted like kindergarteners, too, scuffing the ground with their hooves and not looking directly at Vivi.

 

“Well?” she asked, suddenly wary. The two nightmares were acting entirely too guilty for anything innocent...or anything demonic, really. Must have been Dipper's influence.

 

“We...may have done some scouting about to see if we could find part of the Master,” Horace the Hooved Horror said guiltily. “The Master would have wanted us to stay with you.”

 

“Could hardly help me when I was just lying here,” Vivi said after a few moments of thought. “Did you find anything?”

 

“Well...” Zondor the Destructor said reluctantly.

 

* * *

 

The nightmares led Vivi into the woods. There were a few moments of panic when she thought she might have sprained an ankle in the landing – and wouldn't that have just been the icing on the cake, there, to have not only such a crippling injury for a day when she needed to walk all over but to have such a stereotypical one – but it was only a little twisted.

 

Horace the Hooved Horror was a big enough sheep for Vivi to ride for now, to keep from hurting her ankle further. Zondor the Destructor gave it a lick, as well, and though it was disgusting and slimy, Vivi could also feel it healing the minor injury. So there was that, at least.

 

She was still going to wash it off as soon as she hit water, though. Well...if said water was normal water and not something like the sugar-and-mint grass, that was.

 

* * *

 

The nightmares went deeper into the woods until they came to a clearing. It almost looked like something out of a fairytale, out of Uncle Dipper and Mabel's stories of growing up in Gravity Falls.

 

...that...probably made sense, Vivi decided. If this place was part of Uncle Dipper's mind, then this was probably formed by his memories of that time, with the added rosy glow of nostalgia and what-ifs.

 

Vivi brushed another branch out of her way and paused, staring into the clearing, unsure of what she was seeing at first. It looked mostly right, but around here... “...Uncle Dipper? Is that you?” she said cautiously.

 

Dipper turned at the sound of his name, eyes wide and innocent and curious, and the flower crown he'd been working on slipped out of his hands as he caught sight of Vivi.

 

Both sets of eyes went wide – Vivenne's at the flower crown (since when did Dipper...oh wait, he was Mabel's brother, _of course_ he knew how to make flower crowns...) and Dipper's with open, childlike joy at the sight of his (soon to be official) nibling.

 

“Vivi!” he cried, springing up and rushing to hug Vivi, and it was only when he caught hold of her that she was sure that no, it wasn't an illusion – Dipper was _tiny_ right now.

 

Like, twelve year old at best tiny, the top of his head barely hit the center of her chest, face buried in her stomach as he hugged her tight.

 

“Um, hi, Uncle Dipper,” she said carefully, patting the top of his head cautiously. Horace the Hooved Horror came up to give Dipper a sniff, snuffling over Dipper's face and head before apparently deciding he smelled right, and Dipper laughed as the nightmare licked his cheek, and he transferred his hug to the sheep (to its obvious pleasure).

 

Dipper was still giggling as he climbed up on Horace the Hooved Horror's back, the sheep obediently trotting a slow circle to Dipper's obvious delight.

 

“Um...” Vivi said again. She'd been expecting to maybe come across part of Dipper, but...not one like this.

 

“We have to find the Shack,” she declared. “Yes, Dipper, you can keep riding Horace the Hooved Horror, so long as they're okay with it,” she added when he looked up at her with big, pleading eyes.

 

Horace “Baa-ed” softly at Zondor, a trifle mockingly, as if taunting the other sheep for not being chosen. Zondor jostled the other nightmare, making the tiny Dipper clutch hard at oil slick rainbow wool.

 

“Be nice,” Vivi scolded gently, looking around as she tried to decide which way to go.

 

Zondor tossed their head saucily and trotted up to take point, posing briefly (and dramatically) to make this scrap of their Master laugh before trotting into the woods.

 

Vivi covered her laugh with a hand, amused despite herself at their antics, and followed Zondor, her hand on Horace the Hooved Horror's shoulder so she could keep an eye on her Uncle-to-be.

 

This...wasn't what she had been expecting when she'd joined the search for parts of Dipper. Then again, it was hard to predict what was going to happen with a demon in the family.

 

But still, while she may have said that Dipper acted childish sometimes, this was a bit much.

 

* * *

 

Vivi glanced down when she felt a tug to her sleeve, coming face to flower with a flower crown. Somewhere, Dipper had stored the flowers he'd been working with, and was wearing the crown he had been working on when Vivi and the nightmares had found him atop his own brown curls. Horace the Hooved Horror had one balanced between his horns, and he looked ridiculously proud of it.

 

Dipper kept thrusting the crown at Vivi until she took it, with an indulgent smile, and placed it atop her head. A smaller one was held out and, after a moment, Vivi placed it atop a surprised Zondor's head.

 

Vivi was just glad that, so far, Uncle Dipper was acting so young and wasn't acting out. Honestly, she was surprised at how he was acting. The stories she'd heard from Mabel and G-grunkle Stan had led her to understand that, no matter how old he was at the time, Uncle Dipper had always tried to be seen as more mature and older than his actual age.

 

...on the other hand, she had stories from the triplets of their uncle acting just as childish as them when they were little, so...

 

They continued traveling until a strange smell assaulted Vivi's nose. She paused, the smell having disappeared as quickly as it had come.

 

Then she got another whiff, and saw both nightmares' snouts go in the air, sniffing.

 

“Is that...smoke?” she asked. The nightmares nodded, and she groaned. “Right. Let's go see what's on fire now.”

 

* * *

 

The foursome made a ragged trail through the woods, unable to travel in a straight line through some of the thicker underbrush, so it took them longer to find the source of the smoke than they'd thought it would.

 

But find it they did, and Vivi's heart sank when she saw what was causing the smell.

 

“Uncle Dipper? What are you doing?”

 

Dipper, a full sized adult Dipper, turned to look at her, and though he winced at being caught, there wasn't guilt on his face.

 

In his hands was the fire she and the nightmares had smelled, crackling away merrily.

 

“Uncle Dipper...what are you burning?” Vivi asked again, warily.

 

Slowly Dipper straightened, his hands still cupping the flame. He didn't glance back at the small fire he'd made, contained by a ring of rocks Vivi could see now that he was floating and not hunched over it.

 

Something was burning in that fire, but it didn't smell like something that had once been alive to Vivi's faint relief.

 

“It doesn't matter,” he said. “They deserved to have it burnt. What are you doing out here?”

 

“...looking for you. And the Shack,” Vivi answered.

 

Dipper floated closer, looking down at the Childish aspect of himself. Childish giggled and waved.

 

“That's embarrassing,” the adult Dipper muttered. “I suppose you're wanting me to come with you.”

 

“Yes, I am,” Vivi said firmly, deciding the same tactics that worked on Childish would likely work here too. “Everyone's worried. So come on.”

 

Dipper shrugged and floated behind Vivi.

 

As they walked, she considered asking just what aspect of Dipper she'd found, but it seemed...rude.

 

Over the trees hulked the Northwest manor, just coming into view over the trees. Adult Dipper caught a glimpse of it and growled, making Childish eep and Horace the Hooved Horror step up, bringing the child up next to Vivi. Childish grasped her hand as she looked back at Dipper.

 

“What are you...?” she asked in shock, interrupted by Dipper's increasing growl.

 

“I never did pay those two back for how they treated Pacifica,” he snarled. “She didn't want me to.”

 

“Then you can't do it now either,” Vivi said, grabbing her uncle-to-be's arm and tugging him away from the sight of the mansion. “She'd be upset if you did, wouldn't she?”

 

Spite, for that's what Vivi had decided he was, spite and revenge, shot another growl toward the mansion and reluctantly followed Vivi's tug. He continued to snarl quietly as they traveled, and Vivi only caught bits and pieces – about how the people he loved were too forgiving sometimes, how some people deserved it, and Vivi wasn't sure if she should speak up or not.

 

After about the third side eye, and being given a wide berth by Childish and the nightmares, Spite spoke up. “I can control myself, you know,” he said sullenly. “It just reminded me of people that just...they just really piss me off. Nobody should be treated the way they treated our Pacifica or our Henry. Especially not our Henry.”

 

Vivienne didn't have all the particulars about Hank's grandparents, but she'd heard enough rumors while being around the rest of the Pines to have an idea.

 

And as much as she hated to admit it, she sort of understood where Uncle Dipper was coming from with that.

 

Childish urged Horace the Hooved Horror closer to Spite, reaching up and taking the adult's hand.

 

Vivi was a bit surprised they didn't merge right then and there, but they didn't.

 

Obviously it was going to take something more than simple hand-holding to fix this.

 

What a mess.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yes, I do need notecards to keep track of all the aspects and characters in this story.


	13. Chapter 13

When the wind hit, Pacifica somehow found herself sandwiched between two of Dipper's nightmares.

 

Erschreckendmörderdesgrasderamflaumigstenist Irreaffentittenturbosuperdupertyp Bammelbegierdedergoldenehufe dug claws and wings deep into the pavement on one side while Steve 2 did the same on the other, skidding down the sidewalk and leaving grooves in the concrete until they hit the side of a building.

 

When the wind stopped and the world went back to as close to normal as it was going to get today, they were the only ones left on the street.

 

Slowly they inched their way out away from the concrete wall, still feeling as though the ground was going to drop out from underfoot at any second.

 

Finally Pacifia stood, giving her hair a quick flip. “Ugh, seriously? Fine. We'll do it alone. Just me and a pair of nightmare sheep.” She looked over at the two nightmares flanking her, raising a critical eyebrow. “Okay, who've we got?”

 

The two nightmares puffed up with indignation, following with offended huffs when Pacifica started walking. “Look, I don't remember the names of all Dipper's pets, all right?”

 

The nightmares exchanged looks, proud, smug looks, as if reminding themselves that it was true, _they_ had names, unlike every other nightmare out there, names their master had...well, not always approved of, but accepted. A look that quickly turned disgruntled as they realized they'd been called 'pets'.

 

“Steve 2”

 

“Erschreckendmörderdesgrasderamflaumigstenist Irreaffentittenturbosuperdupertyp Bammelbegierdedergoldenehufe” they said, and Pacifica paused, turning to look at Erschreckendmörderdesgrasderamflaumigstenist Irreaffentittenturbosuperdupertyp Bammelbegierdedergoldenehufe blankly.

 

“...I remember hearing about you,” she said, manicured hand on outthrust hip. “You're still getting called Ershie. Not even remotely sorry.”

 

Steve 2 chuckled before picking up the pace, leaving Erschreckendmörderdesgrasderamflaumigstenist Irreaffentittenturbosuperdupertyp Bammelbegierdedergoldenehufe muttering to themself behind the pair about respecting names.

 

“Are we heading in the right direction for the Shack?” Pacifica asked Steve 2, who bleated softly in confusion. “Yes, I know how to get there,” she snapped back, “but everything's topsy turvy right now, the Shack could have been moved or something.”

 

The bleat Steve 2 gave in answer to that was more understanding and comforting. Pacifica huffed.

 

“Fine, so long as someone knows where we're going...Ershie, quit complaining back there and keep up.”

 

The grumbling, which had been fading with distance, dopplered up to a human-muttering-under-their-breath level as Ershie picked up the pace to join the other two.

 

The grumbling at least gave Pacifica something to listen to instead of the wind whistling through her abandoned town. It was too much like things that had once happened, memories they'd all tried to repress...though looking at the sky or the sheep next to her helped.

 

Last time, there had been a pyramid in the sky, a sky that burned redder than fire, red like fresh blood, like the fires burning out of control, and the air had swept that copper tang through the whole of the town, clinging to the back of the throat and stinging the eyes, and there had been people with her, but not by her side, not like they were now, even if she was separated from them at the moment.

 

...this was almost worse. The stakes had been fairly clear then, but now...at best they could lose Dipper. At worst, they'd release a demon that had none of Dipper left in him, only Alcor, or be trapped in this half reality forever.

 

Ershie nudged at Pacifica's hand, and she bit back a scream. The sheep didn't look nearly ashamed enough as he nodded towards the hospital that had appeared nearby.

 

“Seriously?” she said, glaring down at the nightmare. “In the hospital? The hospital, that should be out of town, not smack in the middle? The obviously abandoned hospital? What is this, a horror movie?”

 

The nightmares chuckled and shrugged. Pacifica groaned, stomping forward to hide the shivers that threatened her stomach. “Fine. Fine, we'll search for the demon in the abandoned hospital. And then, when this is over, I'm mocking that dork with bad horror cliches for a week.”

 

The trio eased their way into the hospital's lobby after having to force open one of the doors to get inside when they refused to move on their own.

 

As if Pacifica's words had been a prophecy, or had set the scene, the hospital did seem abandoned and neglected. It was dark inside, only a few lights still on, and most of those were flickering, leaving the whole place dim, nauseating, and unnerving.

 

Pacifica paused and debated briefly before forcing the door back into place. On the one hand, there was no telling what was in here...but there were nightmare creatures and bits of memory wandering around outside, and she didn't want one of those following her in here.

 

Taking a deep breath and touching the weapons Candy had lent her, belted at her waist, Pacifica turned to face the rest of the hospital. “Right,” she said. “Let's do this.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the hospital was as bad as the lobby. In same ways, it was almost worse, as the lobby had been carpeted. Here, in the hallways, the tiled floors echoed Pacifica's footsteps and the clicking of the nightmare's hooves back at them, distorted and vague.

 

After the first doorway and dimly lit hallway, Pacifica pulled one of the weapons Candy had given her – a club more akin to her golf club than Mabel's bat, though Pacifica was sure it packed a punch much like the bat – from her belt. It had folded up for easier carrying, but it took only a second before it was extended and locked it into place and now carried cocked and ready.

 

So far, though, the hospital had been empty. Somehow, that was almost creepier. Hospitals were never places meant to be quiet and empty, and the total lack of activity had them all on edge.

 

Each sound echoed down the empty hallways, hallways which should have gleamed with cleanliness and shone with light but instead were dulled and grimy, the light nearly gone except where it flickered, shining blindingly bright in the darkness off tile and steel.

 

As if in response to the thought, the few lights that were steady if dim flickered, and Pacifica thought she saw, at the edges of her sight, people. But each time she turned to look no one was there, just the shadowy afterimages at the corner of her eyes, as if she was in the middle of a projected scene of the hospital at work, old video of what had happened here before running at the wrong speed and over saturated until it was barely more than vague images.

 

Erschie led the trio down a hallway, past a sign threatening to fall off the wall that read 'Maternity Ward'.

 

“What the hell is that dork up to...?” Pacifica muttered, turning from the nursery with a shudder, refusing to look again at the barely visible infants populating the plastic boxes they called cribs.

 

“Du̢ck̨ and̕ ͏cov̢e͟r͞!” Steve 2 bleated, and Pacifica froze, club at the ready, until Erschie grabbed her sleeve and dragged her under the waiting room chairs, flanked by the nightmares.

 

Pacifica was about to snap at the nightmares when she heard the moaning. Huddling back under the chairs with them, she watched wide eyed as some kind of creature shuffled past, humaniod in that it was on two legs, but those legs and the arms were too long, stretched too thin, unsteady upon them but still moving quicker than it first appeared, and it was red, red and raw and angry looking, like raw, scalded meat, and faceless, just blank skin stretched too tightly over the skull, tight enough it dipped into the eye sockets and nose, indentations where features should have been. It was dressed in the ragged remains of a nurse's uniform, grey and limp and tattered with suspicious stains coating the once white cloth.

 

Despite all the things she had seen, since one of her closest friends was a demon, Pacifica felt her gorge rise at the sight and controlled herself with effort. She was a Northwest, however much she and her parents might not get along, and she was not going to pass out or throw up!

 

The creature shuffled past, still moaning, apparently not noticing the trio hiding under the chairs.

 

None of them moved until well after the doors had closed behind it and Erschie began to wiggle out from under the chairs, sniffing the air carefully.

 

“What was that?” Pacifica demanded as she dragged herself out from under the chairs, determinately not looking down at the expensive shirt that was almost certain to be covered in dust at best by now.

 

“S̷om͠e ki̡nd͠ ͞of n̨ig̴htma̶r̶e,” Erschie said, tilting̨ his head as he stared after įt. “Mor̛e҉ ̧of͞ tḩe ̷m̡e͡mori͏es͝ ̧and͢ nig̕htma͞re̵s ͝o̶f t̶h͢e re̵s̨t ̕of͠ ̕Gr͘av͢it͏y ̴F͡al͜ls̵ ͞are ͏star̶t͟in͠g͢ t͟o mix ҉wi̢t̸h ţh͞ę ̢M͜as͝t͜e̶r̷'͠ş.̡ ̴T͏his i̧s͠ ͝bad̶. ̨W̸e s͠houl͟d̷ ҉h̴u͢rry.͘ ”

 

“What are we even looking for in here?” Pacifica asked as they rushed through the doors opposite where the nightmare had fled.

 

“N͏ǫt̛ s͡ưr͝e,” baaed Steve 2, hurrying at her side, “some̸tḩi͜ng̡ o͞f͡ the M̶as̕te̛r̵'҉s̨.̴ ҉Bu͟t͟ I ̛w͡an̵t ҉o͞u͞t͝ of ̢heŗe!”

 

 

Pacifica gulped, hurrying ahead. If this was enough to creep out a nightmare, then they needed to find what they came for and get out quick.

 

And when they turned a darkened corner and saw down one of the hallways more of the nightmare creatures, a crowd that stretched across the one side of the hallway to the left, the one of the right darker yet clear of monsters, Pacifica even more wholeheartedly agreed with that statement.

 

* * *

 

In an incredible stroke of luck, though the creatures were faster than they looked, the three of them were faster still, though Pacifica was ready to swear she felt a hand tangle in her hair or brush the back of her shirt more than once during the mad dash, nearly falling to the horde as shoes and hooves skidded and lost traction on the slick floors of the hallways.

 

They burst through the double doors at the end of the hallway, and Pacifica grabbed gurneys that were waiting, on their sides and abandoned, nearby and dragged them in front of the doors as the nightmares held them shut, blocking the way, piling and tangling the metal into a solid barricade.

 

“A month,” Pacifica huffed. “After we get out of this, I'm giving that dork grief about horror movie cliches for a _month_.”

 

There was a giggle from the room closest to the trio and they froze. Slowly three sets of eyes (for a total of ten eyes – Erschie had been feeling creative) swung over to the door, afraid of what they would find.

 

A pair of human-looking eyes peeked out at them from behind the door before the door swung open.

 

Standing partially behind the door was Mabel, but not the Mabel Pacifica had seen earlier today, fully adult and geared up for hunting in the woods for her brother.

 

Each time Pacifica blinked or looked away, this Mabel shifted. Subtly, still Mabel but...adult Mabel, slowly shifting to teenage Mabel. Young adult Mabel, child Mabel, pregnant Mabel, slowly changing while remaining the same.

 

Mabel gestured for them to come to the room, and they hesitated. “Come on, sillies,” she said, and even her voice was right, sounded like Mabel's voice, but... “They won't come in here, they're scared of me.”

 

“What do you think?” Pacifica whispered to the nightmare beside her, still hefting her club.

 

“S̨he͢ fee̴ls l̶i҉k̡e͏ ͠paŗt̛ o̴f͜ ̷the ̶Ma҉s͝t͏er...” Erschie said dubiously. “Sh͟e͠ m̴ay b̕e wh͢at wę ̷we͡re ͏lo̡oki͜ng for.”

 

“Right. Of course she is,” Pacifica said with a groan. There was a bang on the doors she and the nightmares had just barricaded, the doors groaning and buckling under the impact, and the trio beat a rather undignified retreat into the room Mabel was in.

 

Pacifica halted just inside the room to blink a few times. The room was still a hospital room, but...it was Mabel's room, too. Bright and colorful, with banners draping across the ceiling and knitted blankets across the bed and bright stuffed animals on the window seat.

 

Mabel herself was sitting in the window seat, knitting at something. Steve 2 trotted over to sniff at her, making Mabel giggle. She put down the knitting and started scratching their head as Pacifica and Erschie came the rest of the way into the room.

 

“Okay,” Pacifica said after a few minutes of silence, “we were looking for part of the dork, and we find you. The nightmares say you're part of him. Care to explain?”

 

Mabel gave the ecstatic nightmare another good head scratch before lifting her head. “Oh, that's easy,” she said. “I'm the part of Dip-dop that's connected to Mabel. Yanno, our twin bond, the connection we have now that he owns part of me. Did you really think I wasn't this far in him?”

 

“That sounds wrong,” Pacifica commented flippantly, trying to wrap her head around this.

 

Mabel smiled faintly. “Would it be easier to just think of me as Dipper's love for his sister in particular? I'm pretty sure the rest of his love got separated from the other emotions.”

 

“...I'll take it,” Pacifica declared. “So, what now? We just drag you out to the Shack and hope everyone else shows up?”

 

“It's a start,” Mabel said brightly. “Unless you have another plan, Pazzers?”

 

“...how are we getting out of the hospital, then?” Pacifica asked, still not looking straight at Mabel. The constant shifting of her form was dizzying, almost nauseating, and almost impossible to watch directly.

 

Still, even without looking at Mabel, Pacifica could feel the brightness of her smile. “We walk out, silly. With all four of us, and them being scared of me, it'll be easy.”

 

* * *

 

“It'll be easy, she says,” Pacifica grumped, storming along the sidewalk on the way towards the woods where the Shack had to be. “They're scared of me, she says.”

 

“Okay, so I overestimated how scared they were,” Inner Mabel said blithely, sounding so very like the real Mabel it was difficult to remember she was part of Dipper. “But hey, we all got out okay, so it's all good, right?”

 

“Running for our lives from some kind of nightmare nurses through an abandoned hospital is a horror movie, not 'all good',” Pacifica grumbled, before she took a deep breath. She wasn't as mad as she sounded, and both she and Inner Mabel knew it. She just needed to let it out.

 

“Okay. So. Shack?” she said, pausing when both nightmares and Inner Mabel paused, looking in another direction.

 

“Um...care to take a little side trip first?” Inner Mabel said, still looking off into the distance. “I feel another bit of bro-bro over that way, we should probably go fetch him.”

 

“Ugh, fine, but then we're heading straight for the Shack,” Pacifica said, knowing full well that if they came across another bit of Dipper they were going to end up going after it too.

 

For her part, Inner Mabel didn't say anything, just smiling back at Pacifica as she followed the nightmares at a jog. She didn't have to say anything.

 

They both knew what Pacifica was thinking.

 

* * *

 

The nightmares led the twosome into the woods, pausing outside a clearing. Both Inner Mabel and Pacifica paused at the edge of it in concern.

 

“...okay, I thought I knew these woods, but I've never seen this before,” Pacifica finally said.

 

“I think everything's all jumbled around,” Inner Mabel said. “I recognize this place, though. Dipper liked this clearing, called it his 'thinking spot'.”

 

There was graph paper strewn across the clearing, and Inner Mabel stepped closer, squatting to take a look at the huge map that dominated the clearing's ground at the center of the chaos. “Huh. Looks like a game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.”

 

“Isn't that that nerd game?” Pacifica asked, kneeling to pick up one of the miniatures dotting the map, turning it over in her hand.

 

“It's also Dipper's favorite,” Inner Mabel agreed.

 

“Because it's the best game ever!” Dipper's voice said, and both women looked up to find Dipper kneeling on the other side of the map, reaching out to place another miniature on the board. “Do you want to play with me?”

 

“...tell you what,” Pacifica said, deciding suddenly to make the sacrifice, “Come with us now and after everything's over we'll get together everybody we can for a game. Deal?”

 

Dipper looked up at her with huge stars in his eyes, and privately Pacifica debated if she'd leave the nightmare nurses in the game to fuck with him. It was very tempting...

 

Then the dork was hugging her, and it was a lot harder to stay angry with him.

 

...still going to tease him about the abandoned hospital, though. Dork.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Ford lay where he'd landed, flat on his back staring up at the mottle blue/orange/grey sky.

 

This was all his fault.

 

It was hard to accept, after all this time. He'd managed to make his peace with the fact that it was his creation of the portal that had caused the Transcendence in the end, even if Stanley had been the one to bring it back to working order. He'd been angry at Stan for that, but in the end, well, he'd built it. He'd hidden the warnings and underestimated what Stanley would do for family. The responsibility was his.

 

And so was his great nephew's condition.

 

Oh, Dipper and Mabel tried to convince him otherwise, but he knew better. And he knew his great nephew was still scared of him sometimes.

 

And that was his own fault, too.

 

Somehow, here in this combination of Dipper's mindscape and Gravity Falls, it was easier to admit that.

 

When...it...had happened, it was hard to believe Mabel when she said she could still see Dipper, still hear him. He'd been so sure it was Bill, taking Dipper's form to hurt them more, work his way into the family and tear them apart so he could stage some kind of resurrection or revenge.

 

Then he'd summoned Dipper, to prove what he was so sure he knew, and...no. Bill wasn't that good at acting, didn't even understand emotions well enough to act like Dipper, to be so frightened and betrayed to see his great uncle on the other side of the binding circle, that relief when Ford had recognized him.

 

They'd gotten better – after the full apology Mabel insisted on. And Ford finally managed to let go of the idea that Dipper was somehow still Bill...mostly.

 

The fact that it was real remorse and a real apology probably helped Dipper to forgive him.

 

He'd managed it well enough to see his great nephew instead of the demon, to join Mabel in trying to help Dipper train for the inevitable people who'd try to bind a demon as powerful as his great nephew was set to become, to play D, D, & More D with him, to even let Dipper help him in his continued research whenever he stopped back in Gravity Falls. To see the curiosity that still burned there, despite being technically omniscient, to see flashes of the child he had been, so like Ford.

 

There was still tension there, sure, between all of them, but...

 

Dammit, he loved that kid. He loved both those kids, and Stanley. They'd taken huge risks to get him back, and yet the tension still was there, each time they met after time spent apart.

 

It might have helped if Ford hadn't had that fear in the back of his mind, that Dipper would snap, sooner or later, that the demon would overpower the brother, the uncle, permanently rather than the flashes he'd heard his family mention and they'd all be in danger.

 

Well, he'd prepared for it, and he'd acted when he saw the danger, and now look where they were.

 

Finally frustrated with himself, Ford sat up, and recoiled at the two demonic faces looking back at him.

 

With a groan he remembered that Dipper's 'Flock', as they called themselves, had taken it upon themselves to watch over all of them.

 

Ford wasn't sure how to deal with them. They were an anomaly, surely, from a normal demon's familiars and nightmares, but that meant he didn't know what to do – he couldn't treat them as he would a regular nightmare or familiar...not that he had a plan for how to deal with those. They left the Mindscape too rarely for Ford to properly catalog, and those were the unbonded ones, the ones who were bonded only seemed to leave their territory on their Master's bidding. But Mabel cared about them...Dipper cared about them.

 

One bleated and trotted a few cautious steps closer. Ford sighed and ran a hand over his face, still sitting on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest.

 

The two nightmares looked at each other nervously. The second pushed at it's partner, a little shove with its head, and the first hissed softly. They grumbled back and forth at each other, like siblings having a spat over who had to do the unpleasant chore, before the first rolled its many eyes and trotted closer to Ford.

 

It butted Ford's arm, hard, nearly toppling the man over.

 

“Y͜o̶u ͜can ̧feel͢ s̵orry f̸o̢r ̸y͡o͘urse͞l̕f͏ a͜nd̡ ha͝v͟e̶ dee͞p͞ şelf re̡f͠l͞ęct̶i͘on͜ l̶at̕er,” it rumbled, in its voice that mixed baa-ing with demonic static. “Fo͏r now,͠ ̢we ͟must͞ ̷fįn͏d the͠ ̴Maste͟r ̛an̛d͢ pu̴t him̵ ͜ba͜c̛k͠ t͏oget̛he͏r̕, b͏ef̡or͘e ̷this ̨d̢e̸stroys ̡t̡he̶ ҉ţo͝w̸n̶ ͜he̛ l͏oves͘.”

 

“Yes, right,” Ford said slowly. He levered himself off the ground, forcing his mind away from everything else the way he'd taught himself to focus on the real issue at hand. “I suppose we need to get to the Shack, to regroup with everyone else.” He sighed. “Stanley's right, we need to get used to being around family again, but the world comes first.”

 

“Pre̢t͞ty ̨su҉r̴e̕ ͟Stan̷ ͞wo̕u͜lḑ put҉ the ̸fa̴mi̕l̡y a͡h͢e͞a̷d of̴ t͢he w͠o̢rl͝d,” one of the sheep muttered to the other, in what it likely thought was an undertone.

 

Ford frowned at it. “Does Dipper let you talk to him like that?” he demanded.

 

The nightmare gave its approximation of a shrug. “So̢m̡etime͜s҉ t͠h̵e Mast̴e̷r i̶s̸ ̧am̢used̸ by ̡o͞ur ins̷o̢l͜en͜c͠e and҉ s҉om͡et͞i̧mes̕ ͜an͢n͞o͜yed̨,” it said carelessly. “B̨u͟t̢ ̛he ͝a͘ll̢o͘ws it͞ a͝lw̨ays.”

 

Ford's eyes narrowed but he let the subject drop. If it made...his nephew feel better, then why not treat the nightmare creatures as friends. Though he would have expected more curiosity from the boy about the things...

 

“Fine. There isn't any other way to bring Gravity Falls back into reality?” Ford asked, mentally listing everything he'd learned in the portal.

 

“T̵h͡is i̴s̴ all͝ ͢new,” the more talkative nightmare responded. “No̴ ơth͞e̛r ̛d̕emon͡ ̶has͟.̷..͏di̷şa̛sso͝ci͟a҉ted lik͞e ţh̵i̸s. ͟Go̷ne̴ ̛t҉o p̸ie̛c͢ȩs͏ li̡ke̷ ̡th̶i̸s.”

 

“And aren't you l҉uc͏ky, to get to witness it,” a new voice added, and Ford spun, hand to his hip, where he had the laser gun Mabel's friend had given him.

 

“Bill!” Ford hissed, and the figure perched atop the lamppost, legs crossed and hands daintily laid on its knee, snorted, pushing off from his perch and drifting towards the ground.

 

“Please. Every negative aspect of your nephew isn't because of Bill, you know,” he said, hovering a few feet from the ground and examining his claws. “Don't you remember, every Pines has a dark streak?” He grinned as he spoke, a nasty grin full of teeth, and Ford took an involuntary step back.

 

Still, he rallied, glaring back at the creature with his nephew's face. “You are not part of my nephew,” he said firmly, hand still firmly on the laser gun. “Stop pretending, Bill.”

 

“Oh, I  _ am _ part of your nephew,” Dipper's aspect said, and the grin on his face said quite plainly that he was enjoying every moment of this, every bit of Ford's discomfort and pain, “and I just got st͘r͢o͡ng͟er when he turned into a demon.”

 

He flew closer to Ford, slowly, punctuating his words with each sway of a step in the air, each little gesture, each flick of a wing. “I'm the part that cons, the part that enjoys revenge, the part that's cruel. I'm the part that lashes out, that makes people pay for hurting our family, that hurts the people who summon me and enjoys it. Finds a challenge in it. Look at yourself. Look at Stanley. Hell, look at Mabel! Sometimes she can be more bloodthirsty than I am. It should be pretty obvious that we've all got it in us. I didn't need Bill for this part of myself to exist.”

 

Ford winced, opened his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn't come, and the hand on his gun shook.

 

“Did you really think your precious little nephew didn't have this in him? That he only got it from Bill? Oh, you really are still naïve, despite everything you've been through!” Dipper laughed, twisting the knife that much more, and it was hard to believe that was Dipper, despite all the expectations Ford held for the boy, he'd still had some part of him hope... He'd kept expecting Dipper to crack, to act like this at some point, but to see it in action...how could he have been so wrong?

 

“If you are part of Dipper,” he said slowly, watching the aspect warily, “Then why...”

 

“Because of his family, that's why! Seriously, Ford, how can you not have figured it out yet?” Dipper's aspect snapped before Ford could finish the question. “What else would stop me?”

 

“How should I know?” Ford snapped, beginning to believe that this really was part of his great-nephew, the part he knew both he and Stanley had, after years of soul searching and forced honesty, but still not wanting to believe it, “You have the power to destroy the world, and we both know it! You could have done anything you wanted to by now, so why haven't you done it? We both know demons crave power more than anything. What could possibly be stronger than that drive?”

 

“I'm not in charge, and neither is the demon, because they love him, and he loves them! He could have destroyed this world a dozen times over by now, if not for them. He keeps me in check for  _ their _ sake, only unleashes me when someone tries to hurt one of  _ them. _ Because he loves them. He loves them so damn much, he'd destroy the world to keep them safe, but never will, because it would make them unhappy. He won't even go after Henry's pathetic excuses for parents, and believe me, he wants to, I want to make them pay for what they put our Henry through, I want to make them s͜u͟f̸fe̷r, but he won't do it. Because Henry  _ asked him not to _ .”

 

Dipper paused, waiting those few moments for his words to sink in so the next would hurt more. “Oh, but you wouldn't understand about that. Not about family and what some of us will do for the people we love, and damn the consequences. Or that it's how much we love them that can save the world.”

 

Ford scowled. “Selfishness, then,” he said bluntly. “The fate of the world comes before our families, or our lives.”

 

“I s͠a͟çr͞ificed ple̷n̴ty҉ to save͢ ̛t͟ḩe w̕o͞rld!” Dipper snarled, and Ford's hand tightened again on the gun at his hip. “I should have died to save it! And I did it for my family! But no, I didn't get to die for it, I have to live with it for the rest of eternity, if you can call this living! I saved the world because of my love for my family, and if it weren't for them, the world would have gone up in flames, an eternal chaos for Bill! And we'd all be dead, instead of just me paying the price for the world! A heroic sacrifice doesn't always mean death, dammit, and this is worse than death sometimes!”

 

“I...why didn't you say any of this before?” Ford asked. The words were like a blow, reminding Ford of his own failures to save the world, despite everything he'd tried, his failure to save his nephew when he put the world before his family. “Why wait until now?”

 

“Because you needed to hear this, but it was too cruel of Dipper to bring it up, so he didn't. But I'm his cruelty. I'm the conman. Of course I'm going to be blunt and tell you like this. He still adores you, still looks up to you, despite all the times you forgot he's your nephew, went too far with your little tests and questions and experiments. He puts up with all of it for love of you.”

 

“Of course, I could be lying,” Dipper added after a pause, smirking nastily and examining his claws. “As I said, I  _ am _ the part of Dipper that's good at conning, after all.”

 

Ford and Dipper's Darkness stared each other down, one stoic, the other flippant, both waiting for the other to react.

 

Finally Ford sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He paused, looking down at his hand, at the extra finger on it, before looking up at his great-nephew's face, seeing in his mind the birthmark that stretched across Dipper's forehead, hidden as always behind the bangs his great-nephew kept long for that purpose.

 

“You don't have a choice,” Darkness said quietly, coldly. “If you destroy me, then you'll never get 'Dipper' back. You need all the pieces of him to help, you don't get to choose which pieces stay and which should be cut.”

 

Ford stammered for a few seconds, and Darkness scoffed. “We both know you were thinking it.”

 

The two fell silent for a bit, before Darkness gave another little scoff and tossed his head. “Why am I bothering. Come on, let's get to the Shack, so we can get out of here and you can go back to pretending I don't exist except as some leftover from Bill that means your great-nephew is losing the fight.”

 

Ford hid his wince and followed as his great-nephew's Darkness floated into the forest.

 

* * *

 

“...do you even care how much Dipper's sacrificed?” Darkness asked, after they'd been traveling in tense, awkward silence for an indeterminate amount of time.

 

“Of course I do!” Ford replied in a huff, insulted. “I...”

 

“Sometimes, he wonders,” Darkness continued, as if Ford hadn't spoken. “He knows you think sacrifice means being willing to die, and he only partially died. So he wonders, do you realize what he'd do for his family? What he does everyday for them, against his new nature?”

 

Darkness paused, and then grinned, nastily. “Oh, man, does it feel good to let all this out,” he exclaimed. He twisted in midair, 'resting' on his stomach, chin on his folded hands as he watched Ford still struggle through the woods. “Bet you're not feeling so good right now, though. Aw, here, this help?” he asked, and his form morphed and shifted into a golden star, a golden star with one eye and a little floating top hat, skinny black arms and legs and tiny wings.

 

Ford swore and stumbled, nearly toppling over backwards as he fumbled for his gun.

 

The star Dipper crossed his legs and examined one hand, tsking. “And here I thought you liked demons that came in shapes,” he said as Ford tried to control his breathing. “You know he never uses this shape unless he has to? Reminds him too much of someone, I'm sure you know who. It's why it hardly ever gets used. Pity, he could probably do a lot more conning with it, but it looks like there's some lines I, he, won't cross – unless I'm like this and don't have things holding me back.” A star without a mouth shouldn't have been able to smile, but that was still the impression Darkness gave as he looked over Ford. “Oh, and he remembers how everyone reacted the first time they saw it. Henry's reaction was great, I tell you what.”

 

“Turn back,” Ford demanded, gun out and trained on Darkness.

 

“Aw, are you gonna shoot me, Grunkle Ford?” Darkness laughed. “I already warned you, you can't get Dipper back without me.”

 

Ford growled and put the gun back in its holster as behind them the nightmares shifted uneasily. “There. Now turn back. Please.”

 

Darkness chuckled but shifted back to human form, still lounging in midair. “Gave you a lot to think about, didn't I?”

 

Ford winced but didn't answer.

 

* * *

 

As they walked, Ford was outwardly calm, but inside he was a mess of conflicting emotions.

 

Always, always he'd been the central character, the Hero, meant to come back and perform a heroic sacrifice to save the world from his mistakes. He hadn't thought of it in quite those terms until now, in this place, but it was the truth.

 

That it had been Dipper to sacrifice his humanity instead he'd always seen as a tragic mistake.

 

But now, with all Dipper's darkness was revealing to him...well, a good bit of it was probably out of spite, but if there was one thing Ford had learned, it was how demons liked to use the truth to hurt when it would cause more pain than a lie. This may not have been the part of Dipper that was a demon, but if it was the part that could be cruel, why lie when the truth would hurt more?

 

He and Stanley had talked after the Transcendence, they really had, after everything was settled and Ford knew Stanley had told him most of this, and that they'd tried, really they had.

 

But somehow it seemed more potent, more painful, coming from this aspect of his nephew, than it had from Stanley.

 

More damning.

 

Outside, Ford kept up the calm facade, but inside he was a roiling mess as Dipper's accusations and cruel jabs and jokes churned and boiled.

 

And they kept walking, searching for the Shack.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ford's headspace is so ridiculously hard for me to get into, I don't know what it is but it is. This chapter stopped me for so long.


	15. Chapter 15

Soos woke to the feeling of something licking his cheek, already laughing and shoving it away before he was fully awake.

 

It turned out to be a nightmare, and Soos sat up, still laughing, to pet it.

 

“Man, am I glad to see you dudes,” he said as the second nightmare trotted up. “How about that, that whatever it was, huh? Looks like it got all of us.”

 

“I͏ don'͡t k͏no̕w ͟w͝here a͟ny̶one̴ els̴e is͢,” the first nightmare baaed, a little pathetically, but then again they were used to having the rest of the Flock around them to back them up and were feeling a bit exposed with just one other Flockmember and a human.

 

“Hoo man, that's...that's gonna make things harder,” Soos agreed, climbing to his feet and adjusting his hat. “But we found each other during the Oddpocolypse, we can do it now!”

 

The nightmares seemed to take heart at that, waiting patiently as Soos looked around.

 

“Okay, I have no clue which way to go here,” Soos admitted. “These aren't the normal woods. You dudes got any ideas?”

 

“I͜ ̸t͠hink͏.̢..w̶e m͜i̧gh̢t ̵fin̕d ̶par̕t̴ ҉o͜f̧ ̡the̵ ̨Mas̸ţe͞r...̨t̸h̷a̛t ͢w͟ay̴,” the first nightmare, one Soos regonized as Steve, said.

 

“P̕e͝rhaps h͘e͡ ca͜n̵ ͜l͢e̶a͟d̡ us̡ t̷o ̢th̡e S͜h̸a͠ck̛ and͜ the ͡o͢t̕he̵rs̛,” Sheep, the other nightmare, said hopefully.

 

Soos shrugged. “Good a plan as any,” he said. “Lead on, Steve dude!”

 

Steve drew himself up, gave a little shake, and started walking.

 

* * *

 

Steve paused in the edge of woods, looking into a small clearing that fronted a tiny cave, like a slightly overgrown lawn.

 

“I͠ sen͢se̸ ͟par̡t͜ ͘o͝f th͜e ҉Mas̸t҉er ͜in̶ th̵a̕t ̧ca͝ve̸,” Steve hissed. “But͜ I͜ d͘o ͞n͠ot t̶hin̸k i͟t̢ ͜is̴ a͜ fr͜ie͠n͏d̸ļy̵ ̵p̵art of H̨i̛m.”

 

Soos shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” he said, inching his way into the clearing. “Dipper? Hey, Dipper? You in there, dude?”

 

Something hissed from inside the cave and Soos froze.

 

There was a snuffling sound, and slowly Dipper crawled out of the cave, crouched on all fours like an animal. The suit Dipper always wore was filthy, covered in mud and leaves and twigs, with more leaves and twigs tangled in Dipper's hair and mud covering his face.

 

He cautiously sniffed at Soos, not relaxing until he had assured himself that it was indeed the real Soos.

 

For his part, Soos stayed frozen until Dipper relaxed, trusting his friend/little brother to calm down once he recognized Soos.

 

That trust was rewarded when Dipper's eyes lit up and he grabbed Soos by the arm, dragging the bigger man into his cave, Soos stumbling behind him.

 

Dipper was out again after the nightmares as soon as he'd dragged Soos into the cave, all three utterly confused by going along with Dipper's strange insistence.

 

“Okay, was anyone else with you?” Dipper demanded as soon as they were all in the cave.

 

“No, but we should go find 'em, whattya say?” Soos said, heading for the cave entrance.

 

Dipper hissed, arching his back and blocking the way. Soos backed away slowly, the hand he had been gesturing with still upraised.

 

“No! We can't go out there!” Dipper hissed. “It's dangerous! We've got everything we need in here, until I can find some kind of armor.”

 

“Uh, dude, what?” Soos asked, scratching at his head. “You're, like, the scariest thing around, aren't you?”

 

“That doesn't always help,” Dipper muttered sourly.

 

Soos snapped his fingers, pointing at Dipper. “Oh, I get it! You're some part of Dipper that's, like, all about safety, right? Or keeping everyone alive? Wait, I can get this, I know I can.”

 

Dipper watched Soos as he muttered with ears flicking back and forth, listening intently for other, dangerous sounds from outside.

 

“Dude, do you know what part of Dipper you are?” Soos finally asked. “'Cuz I'm drawin' a blank here and just what ta call you. You, you do know you're part of Dipper and not the whole thing, right?”

 

Dipper snarled softly. “Yes, I know that, Soos. I can't hear when you're talking.”

 

He sighed after a few seconds of Soos and the nightmares staring at him intently, rolling his eyes. “Survival Instinct, all right? I'm Dipper's Survival Instinct, and in case you haven't noticed, it's a bit of an Apocalypse outside, and I still haven't found Mabel, or Stan, or Henry, or _any of my niblings,_ and I'm _not_ handling it well!”

 

“Oh, that one's easy,” Soos laughed. “Everybody's meeting at the Shack, little dude. We got split up but that's the plan, to head there if we weren't together.”

 

Survival's eyes went wide and he shot up into the air. “Really? That's great! Come on, I can protect everyone, I can protect myself, so much better if we're at the Shack! I mean, yeah it's got a lot of problems and there's a lot of weak spots but there's also a lot of my energy there and we never did take down that unicorn hair so!”

 

“That's the spirit!” Soos agreed cheerfully. “So, you ready to get moving?”

 

Survival didn't answer, already herding the trio out of the cave and towards the former Mystery Shack.

 

* * *

 

Traveling through the forest was slow, slower than Survival Instinct obviously preferred, but steady. Up until Sheep stopped moving, feet planted and horned head going up like a scenting hound's.

 

“An̨ot͠her ͝part ̛of ̡t͡h͢e ͜Ma͞s̢t̶er is ͘th͢a̸t ͡wa̛y,” they announced. Soos was already walking towards it before Survival could say anything, following along behind the man with a groan and protesting the entire way.

 

They paused on the edge of a clearing, where a small building, a Mystery Shack in miniature, stood.

 

“That's...unconventional,” Soos said, before walking towards the building. “It's not the Shack we're meeting at, is it?”

 

“N͠o, b̛ųt ͠paŗt ̨ơf ̢the Ma͡ster is w̷it͏h҉in,” Sheep said firmly.

 

“Soos what are you doing?” Survival cried. “It could be a trap!”

 

“Nah dawg, Sheep said part of you's in here,” Soos said, gesturing at the nightmare, who was currently pawing at the door. “And I trust you, so it's all good.”

 

Survival buried his face in his hands, groaning, as Steve joined Soos, before flying up in a flash to get between Soos and the door.

 

“You shouldn't...I don't...at least...ugh...let me go first,” he said. “Ow.”

 

“You okay there?” Soos asked in concern, reaching for the wincing aspect.

 

“Yeah. Looks like I should have been two aspects – survival instinct and the protective survival instinct,” Survival said with a wince.

 

“W҉e s̢ha̕ll g͝o fir̵s̕t͡,” Steve volunteered firmly. “͠Th̡at͡ ͝s̵houl̴d̸ ͡b̕alan͝ce̛ i͢t ͡out.”

 

They suited action to statement, shoving the door open with their shoulder and forcing their way inside before human or demon could protest.

 

As they couldn't let the nightmare go it alone, the rest followed, Survival Instinct muttering complaints and protests all the way.

 

Inside the Shack, it looked like Dipper's side of the attic, the summer the twins were twelve.

 

Bulletin boards and white boards covered every available inch of wall, their surfaces covered in scrawls and papers connected to each other with every available color of yarn. Papers and books covered the flat surfaces, spilling over each other to drift onto the floor like snow.

 

Soos peered at the papers as they went past, sounding out phrases as they caught his eye. “Transcendence was government plot...flat earth...boy band clones...disaster deniers...is it just me, or are these all, like, conspiracy theories?”

 

“They aren't as much fun anymore, now that I can know whatever I want,” Dipper's voice said, buried somewhere in the stacks. “Or most of it, at least. But I can't believe people believe some of this stuff!”

 

Soos shoved a wheeled, free standing white board to the side, revealing a Dipper, still in his suit, though he'd taken off the jacket and rolled up the sleeves, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

 

He looked up at the foursome looking at him, chewing lightly on a pencil, sharp teeth leaving deep gouges in the wood. The remains of several more pens and pencils filled a cup at his side, and splashes of ink around his mouth said clearly that he was only treating this one so carefully thanks to earlier disasters.

 

“I mean, it's still fascinating,” he continued. “That people still delude themselves into believing these things despite all the evidence.”

 

Around him, paper shuffled and was re-filed in different stacks on its own. More paper floated around him, where he could easily see it, and he pointed at one. “Like this one. 'Moon landing was faked'. It's so...why?”

 

Soos bent over, looking at the paper seriously, one hand cradling his chin. “Hmmm. Man, do they have a lot of theories,” he said. “Too, too bad none of them make any sense, right dude?” he added, nudging Survival in the ribs.

 

“This is all pretty cool,” he continued, “but we really need to get moving. Everybody's waiting for us at the real Shack. Is it the real Shack? Well, as real as the Shack gets in here,” Soos rambled.

 

Conspiracy didn't move, still looking at the papers surrounding him. “Dude? That means you too. We can't put you back together without all the bits,” Soos prompted.

 

“I'm not finished,” Conspiracy said flatly.

 

“O-oh,” Soos replied, tapping his forefinger tips together nervously. “I...I really gotta insist, dude. We need you. Like, we can't get Dipper back without you. And I miss my pterodactyl bro.”

 

Conspiracy paused, the papers swirling around him slowing to a stop in midair. He tilted his head, looking up at Soos, eyes slitted as he looked the man up and down.

 

Finally he sighed, heavily, putting down the paper in his hands. “You do, don't you,” he said, and Soos answered despite it being a declaration rather than a question.

 

“Yeah, I really do. 'Specially after everything that just, yanno, recently. I know you're workin' through a lot of things but...I just wanna hang out, little bro. I miss my Dipper time. Been a little rare lately.”

 

Conspiracy smiled softly, and behind Soos, Survival was rubbing his elbow, wearing an almost identical smile.

 

“Yeah, Dipper misses...I mean...I miss my Soos time, too,” Conspiracy said. “Guess we've all been pretty busy, huh?” He batted lightly at one of the papers, sending it spinning slowly in midair. “Trying to figure out where those people came from, and all the rest.”

 

Conspiracy rose from the floor, floating upwards gently until he was fully upright. He glanced over at Survival and winced at all the mud before turning back to Soos. “Okay Soos, let's go,” he said.

 

“Great!” Soos said, before he paused. “Um...do you know the way to the Shack? 'Cuz I'm completely lost, dude.”

 

Conspiracy laughed and headed for the door. “Yeah, c'mon, Soos. I know the way.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

Melody woke up with her face buried in something soft, warm, and faintly smelling of raspberries.

 

She squeaked and flailed, finally managing to pull her face from the wool of a nightmare, who was watching her with a mixture of concern and amusement, which was an interesting expression for a sheep.

 

“Well,” she said, sitting back on her heels. “That was different.”

 

The sheep nodded solemnly, a second coming up to nudge at Melody's shoulder. Melody worked herself up to her feet, patting herself off. “I missed your names in all the confusion,” she commented.

 

“M̢a͝r̴y,” the nightmare she'd faceplanted into said, while the other baaed out, “Gra̕sblut̡tr͟in̵k͜er͏.”

 

Melody paused for a moment before shrugging. “Grass...blood drinker? Okay. Right. Anyway.” She looked around, hands on hips, and sighed. “Yeah, I have no clue where we are. That was...” she sighed again.

 

Really, Melody thought she'd gotten used to things in Gravity Falls since moving there permanently. She'd even gotten used to Soos' not-quite-but-totally-was little brother being a literal demon now, even if it killed her sometimes to remember how small he'd been when the Transcendence happened, the few times she'd seen him before it all went down.

 

“I'm getting too old for this,” Melody muttered, before clapping her hands, startling the nightmares. “Right! No more complaining! Off we go!” She paused again, looking around at the unfamiliar landscape. “Which way do you vote?”

 

Both nightmares did their equivalent to a shrug, before Mary said, “This wa̷y̶,҉ p̧erha̶ps? I͝ ̸bel͘i̶ev̕e i̴n t̛his ̶pla͘c͜e ͢t̷h͢ąt ͘o̢ur͢ in̢tentio͞ns҉ ̕coun͜t a̧s mưc͜h as ̸our di͘re͞c͘tions͠.”

 

“Eh, sounds as good of a plan as any,” Melody agreed. “Ugh, wish I'd worn better shoes today for hiking.”

 

* * *

 

It took a bit of walking before Melody really wished she had worn better shoes.

 

Still... “If our intentions count towards where we're going...think one of you could, I don't know, visualize finding part of Dipper? I'd try, but I think it might work better if one of you two tried it.”

 

The nightmares shared a look, clearly mulling over what she had said, before Grasbluttrinker shrugged and closed their eyes.

 

“I..͏.͟be̢l̵i͜e̡ve ̴I͠ h̷a͠ve f̕o̡und ̷par̸t̨ o̴f ̵the ͝M͞a̡s͝ter̴,” they announced a few seconds later. “Fo͢llow͜ ͝me͡.”

 

* * *

 

They had only gone a few steps before Grasbluttrinker paused, sniffing the air. “A̴llow me͜ t͡o m̷ak͘e a modi̡fica҉tiǫn̷ to m͠y͡ s̴t̴at̡eme͠n͏t,”̛ they announced. ̸“͢There ar͏e tw̸o p͘arts ͞of͏ ̷t͢he̡ ̶Ma͡s̡ter a͘h̸ead̢.”

 

“Well, I guess that saves time,” Melody said. “Please tell me they're friendly.”

 

Grasbluttrinker sniffed the air dubiously. “It is̸ ͏ha͝rd̶ ͠t̶o̷ ͡say,͠” they said.“I͡ b̴elieve̢ t̕he͜y ̴a̸re ̡n̵ei̵t͝her ͜frie͝n͠d͏ly ̢no͟r̕ ̶unfrie҉ndly̛ .”

 

“Well, that clears things up a lot,” Melody muttered. “Let's get this over with.”

 

* * *

 

They stepped into a clearing and found the two aspects of Dipper. One was crumpled on the ground, while the over hovered over it. There was a tang to the air of demonic blood.

 

Melody automatically rushed forward to defend Dipper, even if from himself, and the hovering Dipper dropped, wings curling protectively over the other Dipper.

 

They blinked at each other for a few long moments before the hovering Dipper relaxed, drawing back his wings.

 

He reached for Melody, pausing when she drew back the bat she'd taken from Candy. “Melody? Grasbluttrinker? Mary? How did...are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?”

 

Melody looked down at the Dipper on the ground, still partially hidden in the hovering Dipper's wings. “He's okay,” the hovering Dipper said. “Well, mostly. He's kind of having a meltdown.”

 

“Yeah, that's kinda what got us into this mess,” Melody commented. “Um. So...what parts of Dipper am I talking to?”

 

The hovering Dipper blinked at her, slow and unnatural, before answering. “Oh. Sorry. Right. I'm...I guess...Paternal instinct? Uncle? Not sure, something like that.” He glanced down at the aspect hidden inside his wings. “This one is...hm. Can't really sum him up in a word. Guess you'd say...horror at our new instincts. At everything that makes us not human. Well, they aren't really new instincts anymore, but still. And fear of hurting the people we care about. So yeah, he's sort of stuck in a permanent meltdown.”

 

Melody bit her lip and knelt, bending down to look under the protective wings. A pair of eyes caught the light and reflected back at her, like a cat's. They disappeared a second later, hidden behind a wing.

 

“Oh boy,” Melody said softly. She rocked back onto her heels, looking back up at...Uncle Dipper, she decided. If this was the protective part of Dipper, than it was Uncle Dipper. “Look, I don't understand how this happened. But the nightmares think if we get enough bits of you in one place, than it might fix all of this.” When Uncle Dipper didn't move, she added, “It's way too dangerous for the children for town to be like this.”

 

That got Uncle Dipper's attention, just as Melody had hoped.

 

“What do you...where? What place?” he asked quickly. “How?”

 

“The Shack, and we don't know how yet,” she said. “But the longer we're apart, the more dangerous it gets.”

 

“Right,” Uncle Dipper said, snapping to attention. Horror gasped and curled up tighter as the sheltering wings retreated. Uncle Dipper hesitated, still hovering over Horror, though he shifted to the side when Melody approached.

 

“Hey, I get it,” she said quietly, just loud enough for the two aspects to hear. “Well, maybe not exactly, but...when they give you that baby, and you realize you're their whole world, and how easy it would be to hurt them completely by accident.”

 

Horror was looking up at Melody now, at least, which was a bit of an improvement.

 

“Sometimes you screw up. But you have to take responsibility for it and try to fix it,” Melody continued. “You can't run off and hide because you're scared. Because they still depend on you.”

 

Horror still wasn't meeting Melody's eyes, curled in tight around himself with his wings tucked in even closer. But when Melody stood and offered him her hand, he slowly took it, rising from the ground.

 

Still holding Horror's hand, Melody turned back to Uncle Dipper and the nightmares. “I think we'd better get to the Mystery Shack right away,” she said.

 

* * *

 

The truck bumped and shook as it traveled, throwing the occupants around the cabin like dice in a can.

 

“What is wrong with this road?” Grenda snapped. She clutched at the wheel, fighting to keep the truck on the badly rutted road. “I know the road to the Mystery Shack was never this bad!”

 

Candy had been forced to put her gun down, lest the jarring make her hand slip on the trigger, and hold on to the dashboard with one arm, her other clutching the tiny Dipper close as he clung to her.

 

Grazer of Eternity, still stuck in the middle, had resigned themselves to being little more than a cushion for the ride, staring out the window the the most deadpan expression a sheep was capable of.

 

Which is to say, very deadpan.

 

“This i̵s̢ n̨ot ͏G͡rav̕i̧ţy͘ Fa͞lls,̕”̷ they said bluntly. “It͜ i͏s.̶..̶c̴o͜mbined ̕mi͢nd ̵and ̛phy͟si̴cal͘ ͟space.̵ W̸hat i͠s̶ ͏r͝eal i̶n͡ the͠ ̨ph̛ysical ̛r͝eal͝m̵ may̧ ̶n͜ot͏ ͜b͢e̵ r̢eal͢ ͠h͢ere̕.”

 

Both women frowned, contemplating what Grazer of Eternity had said.

 

“I'm not leaving the Basher,” Grenda declared.

 

“I̶f w̶e be̕l̡i͘e̛ve̶ it̨ ̨can ̢m҉ak͠e͏ ͞i̢t t̢o ͞th̵e ͜S̢h̴a͏c͠k͟, it s҉ho͏ưl͞d͏ be ̶a͝bl͞e̴ ͞to,” Grazer of Eternity said with the disturbing ripple that was a nightmare shrug.

 

Candy and Grenda exchanged looks over Grazer of Eternity's back before each shrugged. Grenda put her foot to the gas again, going slower this time, but the Rainbow Basher's pilot (though Mabel preferred to call it a cowcatcher, so that was the name most of them used for it) was able to clear things out of the way at this speed, making the ride smoother.

 

They might have to stop eventually to clear things off it, but for now, they forced their way forward, on the road that was still visible, if over crowded.

 

The cab of the truck was silent for a few minutes until Candy finally spoke. “I have to know. What part of Dipper is this?” she asked, looking down at the aspect still hiding against her.

 

“Well, he's not exactly talking,” Grenda pointed out, most of her concentration still on the road ahead.

 

The aspect, silent until now, mumbled something into Candy's side, too quiet to make out.

 

The Rainbow Basher sped up for a moment when Grenda twitched in surprise, barely resisting taking her eyes from the road, while Candy had no such obligation, twisting to try and see the aspect that pressed deeper into the space between her body and Grazer of Eternity.

 

“H͡e͠ ̡cląi̛ms ̶to͠ ̵be In͜s͜e̴c̶ur̸it̷y ,” Grazer of Eternity said calmly. “I susp̛e͞ct ̡he̕ ̢is̸ ̡more ̷th̷a̧n͝ ̡just ̷th̵a̸t̛, ̛b͡u҉t ̵it̕ is whąt he ha҉s͡ cl͟a̡imed̨,̛ so it ̢is ͠likel̵y ͡t͏hat͜ ͟is h͝is ma͟i̢ņ ͡a̡spe͘c͞t̸.”

 

“Well that clears some things up,” Grenda said offhand, her main attention still on the road ahead. “Leaves more questions but yeah.”

 

“I thought Dipper had gotten over those, now that he was demon,” Candy said softly.

 

Grazer of Eternity did the ripple shrug again. “I ҉d҉o no͜t ҉k̷no̡w. ͡O͝ưr ͡Mas̶t̶e͜r i̛s͢ ͞nơt̶ ̵a ̛demo̸n as ̶w͢e͝ ̛h͞a͘v͞e̶ k͞no͢wņ ̧t͝he͡m b͘ȩf͘o͘re.̸ Demo̢ns̛ cl̢aim to n̕ot ̛have̸ ̧i҉ns͏ecur̴iti̵es, b̸u̧t.̨.͡.i͘t d͞oes n̶o͘t̶ ̧s̶ur͢p̨r̕i̷s͢e me t̡h͡a̕t̷ m҉y Ma̕s҉t͟e̸r͘ do̢es.͝ ͢He͠ w͏as ҉human̶ ̸a҉nd̢ ̶is no͟w͘ d̕em̢o̴n͜. ̡Tha̴t ͏is l͟ik̸e to m̢ake an͠y in͟se̷c̴ure͝.”

 

Suddenly Grenda slammed on the brakes, the other three jolted by the rough stop. Candy's arm saved Grazer of Eternity and Insecurity from hitting the dash, as the seatbelts in the center couldn't wrap around the nightmare and Insecurity had clung too tightly to Candy to be belted.

 

“Is that Melody?” Grenda demanded before the other occupants could speak. “Over there!”

 

“It looks like her,” Candy said after peering out the window critically. “But out here, how can we be sure?”

 

Melody, in the woods, had apparently spotted the Rainbow Basher (the lights and music were off, the better to not attract attention, but a huge rainbow colored truck always gained attention wherever it went) and seemed to be having a similar moment of indecision.

 

There was a solid thunk, and suddenly Candy and Grenda were staring into the black and gold eyes of an adult sized Dipper. He sniffed along the edge of the windshield before turned back to the woods.

 

“It's them,” he called. “And with part of me, too.”

 

Melody hurried up to the truck, a bit out of breath, trailed by a pair of nightmares and another aspect of Dipper, one she held tight by the hand and which lagged behind her, eyes downcast and closed in on himself.

 

Grenda hesitated, but when Grazer of Eternity nodded, she rolled down the window.

 

“Oh thank goodness you girls are safe,” Melody said, out of breath. “Why aren't you still at the Community Center?”

 

“An aspect of Dipper was hiding there,” Candy said from the passenger seat. “We are taking him to the Shack.”

 

“Got room for a couple more in there?” Melody asked after a moment of craning her neck to try and see the aspect, still burrowed deep between Grazer of Eternity and Candy. “Mary thinks our intentions count more than our actual directions in here, with all of us determined to reach the Shack it should go that much faster.”

 

“Which aspects did you find?” Grenda asked before she reached for the locks. “Sorry, but I think we all know Dipper has some nasty parts to his personality now.”

 

“I'm calling him 'The Uncle',” Melody said easily, gesturing at the aspect that was currently on guard, scanning the trees around them. “Protective instincts, and all. This one's...Horror, I'm shortening it too. Fear of what he's become. Both safe for closed environments.”

 

Satisfied, Grenda popped the locks and Melody shoved the two aspects into the Basher before climbing in herself.

 

Mary and Grasbluttrinker opted for the truck bed, claiming it was a bit too crowded inside the truck.

 

Melody leaned back against the seat, exhausted. “At least we didn't run into anything unfriendly,” she said. “I hope we're near the Shack.”

 

From outside, in the woods, came a roar.

 

“...I had to say it,” Melody groaned before anyone else could comment. “I just had to say it.”

 

Candy hefted her gun meaningfully, and Grenda hit the gas. Something charged out of the woods, huge and black, with glowing golden eyes and row after row of fangs bared.

 

Grenda hit it with a solid thump, the cowcatcher sending it over the hood, sailing over the top of the Rainbow Catcher to land behind them with a splat.

 

Through the open back window they could hear Mary and Grasbluttrinker commenting on the hit, air time, and general splat.

 

They gave it an eight out of ten.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Reina had known the Pines family since she was little. She thought she had seen pretty much everything they could throw at her. She'd grown up in Gravity Falls, her uncle-in-law was a demon, she was part of the Pines family now for goodness sake!

 

But she wasn't prepared for any of this.

 

Lying on her back and staring up at the grey-blue sky, Reina wondered again just what it was Acacia saw in her. She loved Acacia with all her heart, but she didn't love all...all this. The danger, and the violence...Acacia was worth it, but Reina was...normal. Not exciting. An _accountant,_ for fuck's sake!

 

Groaning softly, Reina pushed herself up into a sitting position, burying her face in her arms for a moment. It didn't matter right now either way. Maybe she should have stayed at the Community Center...no. No, she wanted to stay at the Community Center, but Acacia needed her uncle back, and while Reina and Dipper didn't always see eye to eye, she loved him.

 

Acacia would find her, sooner or later, and they'd get Uncle Dipper back together, and everything would go back to normal.

 

She nearly shrieked when something nudged her elbow, jerking away and finding herself sprawled on the grass a second time. This time, it was a sheep that stood there, and Reina let out a breath, slightly annoyed that she'd forgotten about the nightmares.

 

“You both managed to keep up somehow?” she asked as the second trotted forward to join the one who'd nudged her.

 

“It was̡ ͡n̢o̵t͘ ͘easy ,” the second, who she remembered being introduced to as “*A picture of two bananas on a tray* – just call them Bananas, it's what I'm doing, a human can't say that,” baaed softly, watching Reina. 

 

“At least I'm not alone, I guess,” Reina sighed, patting the first when they shoved their head under her arm.

 

“ We n҉eed ̛to g͘e̴t to t͏h̴e Shack ,” the nightmare she was petting – Devil's Child, she remembered, and if she didn't know for a fact that nearly all of them named themselves she would have rolled her eyes at another instance of her uncle-in-law trying too hard – said quietly.

 

“I need to wait for Acacia,” Reina protested. “Logic says that you're to wait for rescuers when you're lost.”

 

“All̢ ̷of ̕the͡ Ma͟s̵ter'͜s ̛f̵a̕m͞il͏y̸ w̕įl̢l̷ ҉be ͜hea͜di̛n͠g ͘f̧or t̶he͡ ͘Shac͞k͜,” Devil's Child insisted. “We͢ ̧c͡an fi͘ņd̸ o͏u͠r͜ ҉way̷ ̡th̨e̷r͝e̴. ̛It͢ w͠o͢u͜l̶d be͜ mo̷r͏e̸ ̸da̛nger̡o̵u̴s to st̸a͢y͡ a̶n͝d ͞wait͞ ̴tha͏n̡ to g̢o.”

 

Reina paused, looking down at Devil's Child searchingly. “You're absolutely sure you can find the way to the Mystery Shack from here?”

 

Devil's Child nodded firmly, with Bananas making noises of agreement in the background.

 

“Okay, fine then. Let's go,” Reina said. “I'm no good with fighting, maybe I can...”

 

Whatever Reina thought she could do was cut off when something small and soft collided with the side of her head.

 

“What...?” she began, when another one got her in the forehead. One hit Devil's Child and another collided with Bananas, a childish giggle dancing through the air.

 

Reina came to attention, the nightmares following, eyes darting around the clearing for the source of the giggling.

 

Reina found it a few seconds later, golden eyes gleaming in the lower branches of a nearby tree.

 

“Uncle Dipper...” Reina said softly.

 

Under her arm, Devil's Child shook himself free. “Wȩ h̛av̷e ͠to ͘g͞et h̡im ba͜c҉k ̕to̕ ̕th̵e̡ Shack̛!͜” they hissed. “Fl̵u̕ffęr̡nutt̶er̸ sa͢įd̴ ͞the̶ ̢on͠ly ͠way ̸t͝o ͘g̵eţ the M̸as͡t̷er bąck̕ ͢is if ͝we̵ ͟get ̕al̛l the̵ ͜a҉s̨pec͞ts!”

 

“Right,” Reina said faintly. Looked like it was up to her to bring in part of her Acacia's uncle. Right. She could do this. Maybe she wasn't as adventurous or exciting as the family she'd married into, but she could do this.

 

Please, oh please, don't be one of Dipper's demonic bits, Reina silently pleaded. She wasn't sure she could deal with that.

 

Dipper giggled again, light and childish.

 

“Dipper, get down here,” she said firmly. She and Acacia were hoping to have kids someday, looked like she was going to get some practice early.

 

There was a pause, heavy and pregnant, before a tiny voice said, “Nope!” cheerfully.

 

For a moment Reina was torn between amusement – it was such an, an Uncle Dipper, try-to-hard thing to say, but it was still rather silly – and irritation.

 

“Dipper, we don't have time for this,” she said. Another object came flying at her, and this time, Reina managed to catch it. Glancing down, it took her a moment to recognize the thing as a tiny bean bag, harmless and silly.

 

She stared at if for another minute. What in the...oh. Oh no. Suddenly she could almost hear her mother in law's voice in her head, a conversation they'd had over the last couple of months. How her uncle-in-law had been the serious twin when they were children, but after being turned into a demon, he'd become much more...

 

Another bean bag bounded off of Bananas as Reina finished her thought. Mischievous. Sometimes a bit demonic of a mischief, but usually just silliness.

 

Right. She could handle this. It was just mischief. Reina didn't want to think about what some of the darker aspects of her uncle might look like, she'd just be thankful she was only dealing with this.

 

But now...how to get him to the Shack...

 

Well, might as well try logic first. “Uncle Dipper, everyone's worried. Especially the triplets. We need to get you to the Shack right away.”

 

There was silence, and Reina feared she was going to have to do something drastic. She and Dipper may not have seen eye to eye on everything but she did know how much he loved his niblings, if a direct appeal to that didn't work then...

 

The leaves rustled. “Boooo,” Dipper commented. “Going straight for the weak point. That's low.”

 

“Whatever it takes,” Reina said calmly. “Now come down.”

 

The aspect swung down from the branch, his knees hooked over it and dangling upside down as he glared at Reina. The effect was spoiled when he stuck out his tongue, not aided by the fact that he looked all of twelve years old at the moment.

 

Dipper dropped down from the tree, landing in a crouch. He grinned up at Reina, and she silently groaned. “Race ya there!” he called, setting off immediately on all fours.

 

Reina groaned aloud this time as the nightmares fought not to chuckle.

 

Devil's Child set off after Mischief at a full gallop, while Bananas, who was much larger, paused beside Reina and knelt.

 

“Co̵me,̶ ̧I̧ wil͡l͟ al͘lo̧w you ͘to ̡r̛ide͞,”̢ they offered. “For̢ fam͟i̶l͘y .”

 

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Reina muttered, before climbing aboard. “Right. Follow that demon!”

 

* * *

 

Bananas leapt over trunks and streams, the forest passing by in a blur, and Reina squinted against the wind, trying to find Mischief or Devil's Child. For someone so small, he was moving so fast!

 

They caught up to Mischief and Devil's Child on the edge of a field, one populated with dozens of bright silver globes.

 

“Mischief, you can't go running off like that again. If we lose you, then we won't be able to put you back together, remember?” Reina asked as she and Bananas came trotting up to the other two. “What is all this?”

 

“Fields of memory,” Dipper's voice said, although Mischief's mouth didn't move.

 

Four heads whipped around until they located the sourced of the voice.

 

A young Dipper floated nearby, mid twenties at most, cross legged and staring out over the fields. “Each bubble is a memory,” he said, distracted. He reached out and traced a claw down one, images flashing within the globe as he touched it. He curled up in mid-air, arm and wings wrapping around his legs while he continued touching the globe. “Funny how many of them end with rejection, really.”

 

“Okay, this just got awkward,” Reina muttered. Louder, she added, “But everybody in Gravity Falls accepts you. So does your family.”

 

“Not everybody,” the new Dipper said so quietly Reina could barely hear him, especially over the sudden commotion of Devil's Child pulling Mischief away from the memory fields. “Not all the family, either. Our parents tried, but...”

 

“This is really sad,” Reina agreed, “But...maybe we could all talk it over properly after you're back together?”

 

Dipper didn't respond at first. When he finally spoke, it was to point at the fields again. “The little one's getting away.”

 

Reina groaned in frustration, looking over to see Devil's Child being pulled along behind Mischief as he made a beeline for the Memory Fields. She nudged Bananas, and the larger nightmare hurried forward, catching up to Mischief in moments.

 

Reina scooped up the aspect in one arm, ignoring his squirming and protests. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the tails of larger Dipper's coat, dragging him along behind her. “We'll figure out your issues on the way,” she said bluntly. “Devil's Child, lead the way to the Shack. Let's get him put back together and talking.”

 

Acceptance squawked and flailed, like a fish on the end of a hook, stubbornly ignored by Reina as they made their way towards the Shack.

 

* * *

 

Vanity was being quiet, which was a relief after the initial fussiness over things getting on his suit. The silence was at least partially thanks to Lucy Ann and her merciless retelling of story after story, this time of all the different things she had seen both Dipper and his suit covered in. The blood he had almost been proud of, given that it was nearly always connected to some story of victory. The sprinkles, glitter, and other detritus that came with living with crafter extraordinaire Mabel, not so much.

 

However, he was making up for the verbal silence in spades with his fussing. Constantly fixing his suit, straightening the shirt, fixing the cuffs, brushing himself off...one of the humans wouldn't have heard it, but Lucy Ann could, along with seeing the random motions out of the corner of her eye.

 

She'd already snapped at him once, making him pout for a good ten minutes before a branch snagged his hair and started the whole process over again.

 

Lucy Ann was building up for another blowout when something new caught her attention. Turning, she nudged Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire, whom she was still riding despite the fact that she could very easily have walked, towards the bobbing light.

 

Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire rolled his eyes but complied. Vanity didn't much care where they went, so he and Baaasly followed easily as Lucy Ann directed Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire towards their goal.

 

Lucy Ann wished she could be surprised that she'd found another aspect when she came into the clearing and saw him there. But she wasn't. Even she had to admit that a person was made of of dozens, if not hundreds of aspects to their personality, and she could just hope Dipper hadn't split himself into that many.

 

They might never get the dork back together if he had.

 

Either way, they came out of the woods at the top of the cliff overlooking Gravity Falls, and Lucy Ann had to pause to silently curse for a good thirty seconds. The cliffs were a good ways from the Shack, how the hell did they get turned around enough to make it up here?

 

The aspect hovering at the edge of the cliff, his toes a good six inches from the ground, didn't turn when Lucy Ann and her entourage came close. He was staring out over the town, hands clasped behind his back.

 

“Yo, Dippin-dork, heads up,” Lucy Ann called, though from outside of arm's reach. Just because Vanity wasn't violent didn't mean this aspect wouldn't be. “What're you, and what am I going to have to do to drag you to the Shack?”

 

The aspect glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the town. “I'm trying to decide how to fix this,” he said flatly. “This town is mine, and I will protect it. Now let me think in peace.”

 

Lucy Ann's disgusted glare could have etched glass. “I'm the lucky one to find both Vanity and Arrogance, then?” she said sourly. Arrogance huffed softly and didn't answer.

 

Lucy Ann glanced back at Vanity, who was getting the last of the brush off of his suit and settling it back into place. “Can't believe you actually have both a 'Vanity' and an 'Arrogance' aspect...” she muttered. “Aren't those practically the same thing?” Lucy Ann huffed, looking aback at Arrogance. “You can't fix this one on your own,” she said, watching warily as Arrogance stiffened, shoulders tight and wings drawing in, tense and close. “We have to round up all of you. So let's get moving.”

 

Arrogance sniffed. “I _can_ do this on my own,” he insisted. “I did this, now I'm the only one who can fix it. I'm the omniscient demon, I know everything.”

 

Lucy Ann narrowed her eyes, glaring up at the aspect who was looking over the town again, ostensibly ignoring her.

 

Screw it. She was bringing out the big guns, she didn't have time for this. She'd apologize later, because this wasn't kind, and it went past what their usual boundaries for taunting.

 

“You know everything, huh? Funny how that works. Didn't help Willow much, did it? Seeing as how she had to deal with that teacher of hers on her own, since you didn't look for more than one way to deal with her powers. Didn't help Stan, or Hank, or Acacia, or Mabel, or...”

 

“Stop, stop!” Arrogance cried, hands clamped over his ears, cowering away from Lucy Ann.

 

“You were so sure you knew exactly what to do, the only right way to do it, and that didn't help, did it?” Lucy Ann continued ruthlessly. “Just got everyone in trouble since you knew better than they did. Just almost got family killed and did get them injured for life.”

 

“You win!” Arrogance cried, and Lucy Ann backed off. He let go of his ears, which were red and painful looking from the grip he'd had on them, and scrubbed fiercely at his eyes. “You win. Let's go to the Shack.”

 

Lucy Ann nodded and Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire turned to go back into the woods. She wasn't going to press this victory, no matter how much Arrogance might irritate her. She'd gone far enough, if not too far, and it was a silent group that made its way into the dark forest.

 

* * *

 

Reina wasn't sure how long they had been walking – time was passing oddly here, in this mix of Mindscape and Reality.

 

Had it been like this, she found herself wondering, in that time between? After Bill Cipher had tried to take over and before he'd been defeated and the Transcendence wiped across the world?

 

Reina forced herself not to think about it. She'd been told about what had happened, though not in detail, when she'd been dating Acacia for awhile and it was obvious they could trust her with this information, something just about everyone in Gravity Falls who had lived there their entire lives had known.

 

It still hurt if she thought about it too hard, and she was pretty sure it was the sort of thing that shouldn't be dwelt on here, where Reality could be so thin.

 

Especially not now, when her wish that she could find someone else seemed to be coming true as the bushes rustled.

 

Mischief and Rejection had gone still, watching them silently, with the intensity of hunting cats. The nightmares were no less focused, but so far, they didn't seem to feel threatened.

 

Not that that particular fact helped much. There were quite a few things here that wouldn't post a threat to aspects or nightmares that Reina still didn't particularly want to meet.

 

When the bushes finally parted and Lucy Ann came riding through on Terrence, Destroyer of Grass, Eater of Souls, Esquire like a queen, nightmare and vampire both on edge, Reina didn't relax immediately.

 

She'd met Lucy Ann before, yes, and found the tiny vampire to be a sort of ally – neither of them was willing to put up with Dipper's shenanigans – but they still didn't interact very often.

 

Still, any ally in a storm, right? And after a quick sniff of the air, Lucy Ann relaxed, so Reina did her best to follow suit.

 

Damn it, she didn't go into the field like her wife did, Reina was out of her depth here.

 

Lucy Ann had another two aspects of Dipper following her, along with a second nightmare.

 

“Hey,” she said shortly, glancing over Reina and her little entourage. “I found Vanity,” she pointed with a thumb over her shoulder at the pristine aspect. “and Arrogance. I was pretty mean to them, so they're gonna be quiet for a bit. Who'd you dig up?”

 

“Vanity and Arrogance? Just what I needed,” Reina groaned. Lucy Ann barked out a quick laugh and Reina gestured vaguely behind her. “Aren't those practically the same thing? Why does he get an aspect for both. Anyway. This is Mischief and Rejection. Or Acceptance? I'm not really sure.”

 

Reina thought she heard Lucy Ann swear quietly, but when she glanced back up, the vampire looked resigned, if a little amused.

 

“Well,” Lucy Ann drawled after a moment, surrounded by nightmares, flanked by three aspects of a demon, “Good thing it's the two of us. I think we can handle this dork, don't you? Considering who we got.”

 

Reina glanced back at Rejection, still hanging in midair limply, being tugged along by his coat tail, and Mischief, still squirming in her arms, and took a deep breath.

 

“You know what? We just might be able to handle this at that.”

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

Willow woke disoriented and short of breath. Automatically she groped for her inhaler, frowning when the attack passed as quickly as it had come on.

 

Why...oh, right. If this place was even partially her uncle's mindscape, then he'd use his power and keep her from having an attack, no matter how scattered he was. It wouldn't work in reality, or anywhere but the mindscape, but in here...it seemed the usual rules didn't apply.

 

She was torn for a second between irritation at being coddled and touched that he still watched out for her, even when he was literally torn apart.

 

Touched won, but only just. Mostly because, well, Uncle Dipper was suffering right now, but still watching out for them.

 

Suddenly realizing that she was leaning on something soft, something that smelled familiar, she sat up in a rush. Lolonja baa-ed at her softly and comfortingly, and Willow felt herself relax.

 

Lolonja was good to have around, almost like having part of her Uncle Dipper here.

 

Glancing around, she saw Smooches patrolling a close circle with them at the center, turning to look when they heard Lolonja's baa.

 

“T҉h͘e ͜S͠hack͘ i҉s nea͘r,” Lolonja said quietly as Willow got to her feet. “Sha͞l͏l we g҉o t͜h̸ere f͢i̢r̨st͝?”

 

“I suppose someone has to,” Willow said finally, as the urge to go out there, find parts of Uncle Dipper,  _ do something _ , fought with the knowledge that she needed to be responsible, and the responsible thing to do was to regroup at the Shack.

 

“There͏ ͡m̨ay be̢ part ̵o͝f̶ th͜e͞ Ma͜st̵er at͜ t̕he Shac̡k͞,” Lolonja offered, as if sensing what Willow was thinking. “It ͟is̸ his͏ ho̵me̵, so s̡o͜m͘e̕ par̵t̶ o͝f h̶i̸m҉ ͜ve̕r̨y li͟k̛ely ͏may ̧h̸ave̵ fle̵d th͟ere.”

 

“...fine,” Willow sighed. “Let's go to the Shack, if that's what it is again. And everyone'll coddle me, again.”

 

“T̢h̛e͡ ̷Ma̷st͜e͠r ̵did cơm͏e ̧c͜lose to̧ lo͡si͝n͢g you ͏w̨h͡e͟n̵ ̴e̡veryt͞hin͠g̛ ͢h҉ap̷p͏ȩn̡e͞d a̸ ̴f͠e̵w̴ ̷mont҉h͠s ͠ąg̕o,” Lolonja said mildly as they began walking.

 

“Well, we came closer to losing him then we did losing me,” Willow said, with a bit of heat. “I get he's probably getting tired of everyone hovering, but...”

 

“B̕ut ̷shoul̨d͏ ̛nǫt ̢hav̶e ̶b̕ȩen so̧ c̴l̴o̕se,” Lolonja agreed. “We͜ we҉re̵ f͏r͡ig͏h̨te͘ned, to͠o̡.͝ The̛ F̧lo̷c͏k. ̡W͡e̵ diḑ ͞no͢t̴ th̸i̶nk̵ ̨ou͠r M͢aste͢r coul̕d͟ ͘b͞e h͡urt ͡so͜ ̸bad̕ly,͝ fo̸r a̷ll he ̧i͢s ͡st͝il͞l ̵so̶ y͠ǫung͡. He ̴is ͝stil҉l so͜ p̶o͜wer̨ful f̧or ͡one̢ ̧so ̸y̧o̵u͘ng...”

 

Willow was saved from answering by pushing aside bushes and finding the Library, once again the Mystery Shack as Lolonja had predicted, on the other side.

 

The Mystery Shack was something Willow had only seen in pictures and her mother's stash of childhood videos, but despite the Library being the Shack now, as it hadn't been in Willow's lifetime, she still felt a rush of safety looking at it. Shack or Library, Mindscape or reality, it was Home.

 

And no matter what other horrors may lie in wait in this mix of mind and reality, it was difficult to believe that Uncle Dipper would allow the Shack to be anything but safe. It had always been his home and sanctuary as well as her and her siblings'.

 

Still, Willow was cautious as she edged to the door of the Shack, Lolonja and Smooches close by and on guard.

 

The door opened with a familiar creak, comforting in its ordinary, everyday sounds, just as the kitchen beyond was the familiar kitchen of Willow's home.

 

Which was odd, as she remembered her mom tiling that backsplash, with its unicorn running on a rainbow, so why would that be in the Mystery Shack?

 

Willow eased her way through the Shack, cautious and watchful. It was a curious mix of old and new, Mystery Shack and Memorial Library, the home her mother and uncle must have known when they were young and the home as it was now.

 

So far, there wasn't the faintest hint of anyone or anything else in the building, but that didn't mean there wasn't.

 

The vending machine door to the basement was closed, and for now, Willow left it that way.

 

Lolonja and Smooches sniffed at the door and shook their heads before Lolonja pricked up, looking up as if she could see through the layers of floor and ceilings.

 

“Th̕ere ͝i͢s ͜an ͢a̢s̕p͘e̡ct of͟ ̶th̸e Mast̛e͘r͘ ̴he̶re͜,” she said softly. “Above̴.͡ In ͘the̷ ͞attic.”

 

Willow looked up and nodded. It made sense, in a way, she supposed. The attic had been her mother and uncle's room that summer, so it would be a good place to seek sanctuary.

 

“Anything else?” she asked, working her way towards the stairs.

 

“I͜ c͟an't͟ ͜sme͝lļ o͏r sen̡se an҉yǫn͟e e̕l͜s͜e in̛ ͢t͝his bu͢ild͝in̛g,” Lolonja said seriously, Smooches nodding solemnly behind her. “J͘us̵t pa̶rt͞ ͏o͘f t͏he̶ M̵astȩr̛.”

 

Willow nodded again and began making her way up the stairs.

 

Looked like she was going to be dealing with one of her uncle's aspects after all.

 

* * *

 

Willow eased open the door to the attic bedroom, gesturing for the nightmares to wait.

 

She wasn't sure just what aspect of her uncle was here, but she didn't want to frighten him if it was part of her uncle that wasn't demonic.

 

The room looked empty from the doorway, and Willow paused to look it over.

 

Two twin beds, one a mattress and box spring, the other a mattress laid on a wood platform, sat opposite each other against each wall. Over one bed, all over the wall, were pinned papers and diagrams and a painting of a ship at sea, while the other side was covered in posters.

 

Papers and books and pens scattered around one half of the room, while yarn and colorful paper and sequins and glitter dominated the other half.

 

It was like stepping back in time, into a room whose bones she recognized, but which was otherwise unrecognizable.

 

Overcome for a moment, Willow sat down on one of the beds, the one to the left of the room, below the papers and diagrams, and heard a soft scuffle of motion.

 

She froze, and the noise stopped. Cautiously Willow moved again, shifting her weight, and she heard the scuffling sound again, coming from under the bed.

 

Slowly, so slowly it almost hurt, Willow leaned over to look under the bed, hand on fire and hidden behind her back, half expecting something to come flying out at her.

 

Back in the corner, pressed against the wall under the bed, a pair of brown eyes stared back at her from under familiar brown hair, hair topped with a pine tree ball cap like the one kept in her mother's room.

 

The nightmares outside the room were still calm, and Willow doubted they would be if she was in danger, so she let the fire on her hand die and smiled gently at the person under the bed.

 

“Hey,” she said gently, remembering all the times her uncle and dad had to coax her and her siblings out from under various pieces of furniture. “Bet it's cramped and dusty under there. Why don't you come out so we can talk?”

 

Those eyes blinked at her suspiciously, and Willow added, “My name's Willow. Something weird is going on around here.”

 

“I know!” the boy under the bed said, scrambling out. “I'm Dipper. I've known something strange was going on all summer but no one else believes me!”

 

Willow couldn't answer right away, struck dumb at the sight of her uncle, human and a child, the same way he'd looked in the videos the triplets had found in the attic once, from the summer before the Transcendence had changed him.

 

Willow had seen him in a similar form before – her uncle enjoyed playing with the triplets too much to pass it up, and he'd enjoyed being their size for a good half of their pranks – but this was different.

 

Uncle Dipper had still been a demon then. Still had the fangs, the claws, the black on gold eyes. He only pretended to be human when he had to, and it was so uncomfortable for him, painful for their mother and grunkle, to watch him have to try and playact at what he hadn't gotten the chance to be but should have had that he didn't do it often.

 

But this was, apparently, the part of her uncle that he'd been before becoming a demon, from that summer, and Willow suddenly felt out of her depth.

 

Dipper was still talking, not noticing Willow's shock just yet. “I found a journal the first few days my sister and I were here and it talks about all the paranormal stuff that goes on around Gravity Falls, but nobody ever has any idea what I'm talking about, or they act like I'm just imagining things.” He paused, looking up at Willow suspiciously. “Why do you know about it?”

 

“Oh, I was born here, in Gravity Falls,” Willow said honestly. “I...I see things other people don't.”

 

Dipper stopped completely now to look up at Willow with an odd mixture of awe, curiosity, and suspicion. “What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“It doesn't really matter right now,” Willow said quickly. “What matters is that everything is going haywire and we have to fix it. Everyone should be making their way here to try and help.”

 

She hesitated, wondering how much of...of himself this aspect of Dipper remembered. What would happen if he didn't remember and she told him things he didn't yet know? Would it make him remember, or would he hide again?

 

Ugh, she was going to get a headache at this rate.

 

Dipper was talking again as she ran through that quick debate. “...just woke up here at the Shack, but everything outside is...well, you can see! I tried to contact Mabel, but she's not answering, but there's something outside, and every time I try to leave it attacks!”

 

That got Willow's attention focused back on her uncle. “What do you mean? What's attacking?”

 

“I don't know!” Dipper said, arms flailing in frustration, almost dropping the journal he'd been clutching. “But it doesn't want to come up here for some reason, so I've stayed up here.”

 

“O...kay,” Willow said slowly, and Dipper puffed up like a tiny kitten.

 

“You don't believe me,” he accused.

 

“I do, I do,” Willow said quickly, holding up her hands. “I'm just trying to think. Did you get a look at it?”

 

“No,” Dipper said sullenly, “but I know it was there.”

 

Usually, Acacia was the reckless one, but that didn't mean the other triplets hadn't gotten their fair share.

 

Willow grinned at Dipper. “Okay, let's go see if we can see what we're dealing with then.”

 

* * *

 

Dipper stopped short when Willow opened the door, staring at the nightmares and groping for the journal.

 

“It's okay, they're friends,” Willow said quickly, arm out to prevent the nightmares from rushing forward to greet this part of their master.

 

Dipper stared at the nightmares with open curiosity, studying them as they went down the stairs.

 

He didn't get a chance to ask the questions obviously waiting on the tip of his tongue, as something began rattling the windows, shaking them until Willow thought they might burst from their frames.

 

The walls began to ooze something brackish, thick and viscous and foul smelling.

 

Something large and heavy slammed into the window closest to Willow and Dipper, the entire house reverberating with echoes of the impact.

 

The ornaments on the shelf and exhibits in the Shack rattled, shaking as if the entire house were in an earthquake though everything else remained still. Willow heard something shake off a shelf in the kitchen and shatter on the floor as the wind picked up around the Shack, roaring like a living thing, indistinct words mixed into its screams.

 

Willow forced herself down another step and the screaming outside redoubled, the house itself beginning to shake and rattle. It knocked Willow off her feet and she slid painfully down another few steps, the old wood digging into her back.

 

Dipper grabbed the back of Willow's shirt and half helped, half dragged her to her feet, and the two latched hands and scrambled back up the stairs to the attic.

 

* * *

 

“O...kay,” Willow said slowly after the four had barricaded themselves into the attic. “That's...yeah. Everyone is coming here, we have to figure out what that is!”

 

“I don't think it can get in,” Dipper said, though his voice wavered uncertainly. “I mean, Great Uncle Ford and I put unicorn hair around the Shack, that should help, right?”

 

“Doesn't keep you out,” Willow muttered to herself. “...I think it's still there, at least.” She took a deep breath, grateful she didn't seem to have to worry about it here. There were enough problems without her usual ones to deal with, too.

 

“I͜ ̸a͢m ͡not s͜ure̡ ab͘o͝ut ̕the ͡u҉nicor͞n ͢hai̸r,̸ bu̸t s̶omethi͡n̛g̡ s͟ee̷ms̨ ̸to̕ ͡be͢ ke̕ep̛i͏n̡g i̛t ͜oưts̛i͘de͏,” Lolonja commented. “If ͟it͡ ͢w̡e͏r̸e the ̛u̵ni͘cor͠n͢ ha͘ir̴,̸ th̴en̛ ̡Şm̨oo̵c͜h̡e҉s an̢d͡ ̛I҉ sh̴oul̕d͠ ͞n̵o̸t ̡h͝a͡v̧e̴ b͟e̢eņ abl͡ę to enter̢, an͜d yet hęre ҉we ͞a̕r̵e. Bu̧t ̴then ̧a͟ga̴in͏, t̶he r̛ules ͞s͞e̸e͘m͏ ̵t̨o ̕b̶e͡ ͟b͢e͞nt ͞here ͜and͞ ͟now.”

 

Dipper mouthed 'Smooches' to himself as the fanged, winged, spiky horror so named trotted over to the attic window, peering outside.

 

Lolonja joined him, and Willow sat down on the bed, watching them as the pair quietly conversed.

 

Dipper fiddled with the journal in his lap, and Willow kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

 

The big problem at the moment, besides whatever was outside the Shack, was whether or not this aspect of her Uncle remembered anything. If not, then this was going to be complicated.

 

If he did...then this was the best acting job he'd ever shown Willow. But how to figure it out...

 

Willow was distracted by Lolonja, who trotted back over to them, tipping her head to Willow for a moment alone.

 

Smooches kept an eye out the window as Lolonja and Willow hurried into the far corner, ignoring Dipper's disgruntlement.

 

Lolonja shifted her weight, obviously distressed, and it took a moment before she was ready to speak. “I͡ţ's̨ ͜the͏ ͝Mas͜te͠r,” she said, so quietly Willow had to lean in close to hear her. “Outsid͟e. I̴t's͟ pa͠rţ ͟of th͢e M͝a͡st҉e͝r. The̕ ̸p͝ar͡t ̵that ͡i͡s ̴who̶l͏ly ̴demon͘.”

 

Willow felt the blood drain from her face, opening and closing her mouth silently a few times before the words would emerge. “I... _shit_ ,” she said, quietly but with feeling. “That got an aspect to itself?”

 

Lolonja gave the rippling, eye watering motion that was her shrug. “I̕t͢ co͏uld ͟be͘ ̸t͏h͜at̵ ̕i̡t i͡s͏ th҉ȩ p͟a͞r̡t̕ ̢of ͢th̵e̕ Mas̴t̷e̷r ̢that͘ ̵m͠a̵k̵e̵s͏ ̶hi̴m a ͠de͏mon̴,” she said. “B͠u̧t̕..̕.̷I ̵c̡o҉ul͏d̵n't̛ ͏sa̢y͜ fo̵r̶ sure.” The wind roared around the Shack again, and Lolonja winced. “I̢ d͡o ̵n̢o͘t thi͜nk h͜e ͏p͜ar̵ti̴cul͠arl̴y ̡w̷an̷t̸s to͡ r̷e͘f̴o͡rm̵ ͟w͘ith̵ t͢he͡ o̸the͏r̴s̕.”

 

“Uncle...he does try hard to stay as human as he can,” Willow said. “Just great.” She sighed, taking a moment to think. She glanced back over at Dipper, but she still couldn't See anything around him, a fact that hadn't registered as odd until now. She usually couldn't see her uncle's aura, since he kept it on strict lockdown, but she should be able to see this Dipper's, shouldn't she? “Now what do we do?”

 

“It's something to do with me, isn't it?” Dipper asked abruptly. Three heads snapped around to look at him, though the rest of Smooches' body didn't move, still facing the wall. Dipper looked away, fingers still tracing the cover of the journal. “I...I've been getting flashes. Little things that say this isn't Gravity Falls, and that I'm missing something. But I don't know what's wrong.”

 

The other three glanced at each other, a quick debate, before Willow stood up.

 

“Looks like it's up to me. Let's see how much of this you can swallow.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

Hank had lost track of how long they had been walking and just what direction they had been going in. The nightmares were leading the way, while he and Gravity Falls were distracted keeping Uncle Dipper's Curiosity and Adventurer under control.

 

Despite the whining of both aspects Hank had kept the child leashes, and they hadn't managed to get out of them yet. Hank wasn't questioning how the two aspects hadn't managed to wiggle free yet, all things considered – well, okay, he was questioning, just not out loud where they could hear him and get ideas.

 

It was a good thing that they hadn't been attacked yet, and Hank was grateful for that, when he had a chance to think.

 

Still, with all the noise they were making, that was a bit of a miracle.

 

Gravity Falls, for their part, was still apparently amused by Curiosity and Adventurer's antics, and Hank suspected it was distracting Gravity Falls from the discomfort or downright pain that came from the circumstances they found themselves in.

 

Gravity Falls seemed to be extra amused by how often Curiosity tried to climb trees, resembling a giant cat on a leash as he did. If it weren't for the leashes, the two of them would have lost the aspects long ago.

 

Up ahead, That of Teeth and Bessie went still in the way only a supernatural creature could, as quiet and frozen as a statue. At the ends of their leashes, halfway up a tree and inspecting a bush respectively, Curiosity and Adventurer mimicked them, all four looking in the same direction.

 

Sharing a glance with Gravity Falls, Hank shifted his weight to his good leg, hefting the staff Aunt Candy had given him that he'd been using as a walking stick, getting it into position for an attack.

 

Hank didn't allow himself to relax when two more of Uncle Dipper's sheep shoved their way through the underbrush.

 

But when his mother followed, an aspect of his uncle trailing despondently behind her, he did, fractionally, staying on edge until Gravity Falls nudged him. “It is truly your mother,” they whispered. “I would always recognize her.”

 

Relieved, Hank rushed forward to hug his mother, the two pausing for a moment just to hold on.

 

At least, they did, until Curiosity and Adventurer made their presence known, interrupting the moment.

 

Mabel pulled away from her son to look over the aspects of her brother, pausing when she caught sight of the child leashes before she started to howl.

 

The aspect floating behind Mabel pouted, crossing his arms as he floated closer while Mabel continued to laugh. “ 's not funny,” he grumbled.

 

Hank shrugged. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn't sound apologetic. “But with my knee...and these being Curiosity and Adventure...”

 

The aspect in front of Hank made an understanding noise, though he still looked a bit put out over it. He glanced over at where Mabel was giggling over Curiosity, who was ignoring it in favor of inspecting one of the winged kittens that had appeared around Mabel. “I'm...trust, I suppose. Or Trust Issues, or something like that. ...who's holding the other leash?” he asked, squinting at the end of Curiosity's tether and the person he didn't recognize.

 

They winked at Trust, who continued to watch them suspiciously. Hank rolled his eyes, shifting his weight so the walking stick would help his knee more.

 

“Mom? We need to keep moving,” he said. Mabel looked up from where she was teasing Curiosity, sobering.

 

“Yeah, okay hon. How's your knee holding up. And...who's holding that? It's just hanging there,” she asked, pointing at Curiosity's leash, which to her eyes looked to be held in mid-air.

 

“You don't see them?” Hank asked, sighing when his mother shook her head. “Of course you don't. Mom, the person you can't see is the genius loci of Gravity Falls. This whole thing is hurting them, too. So they're helping. Come on, I'll tell you the rest as we walk, and you can tell me what you've been doing.”

 

Mabel frowned and clapped her hands. With a poof of multi colored glitter, a full grown pig appeared, one Hank recognized from his mother's pictures as her childhood pet, only larger than he had been allowed to grow in life thanks to the influence of the size-changing crystals of Gravity Falls' forests.

 

“Here, ride Waddles for a bit,” his mother said firmly, taking the child leash from his free hand. “He won't last too long, but it'll rest your knee awhile. Don't argue, he's not big enough for both of us this time and I can walk some more, and I don't want you knee giving out later. Now, let's go!”

 

* * *

 

The Rainbow Basher continued plowing its way through the underbrush of the forest, though it was slow going at times. It almost seemed as if there were something trying to keep it, and its passengers, away from the Mystery Shack.

 

It had started small, with the road merely being so overgrown that a normal car wouldn't have stood a chance at passing through. But then there had been the giant stump of a tree in the center of the road, too tall and too wide for even the Rainbow Basher to cross, forcing them to detour around it, off the path.

 

If it hadn't been for all the nightmares and aspects in the truck, they could have easily lost their way then, as the forest seemed determined to force them in every direction but the one to the Shack.

 

After Grenda had figured that out, though, it was easier to find the way. Unfortunately, it also meant the most difficult way, as the more it tried to keep them away, the more right they were.

 

Somehow, subtly had gone out the window at some point for whatever was trying to stop them.

 

It was a good thing no one in the car was any good at subtly, anyway. They all rather preferred the more straightforward approach.

 

Which was why the Rainbow Basher's cowcatcher was getting quite the workout, and was going to need a little TLC when this was all over.

 

When shapes moved in the underbrush, Grenda revved the engine threateningly, ready to run it down. It wouldn't be the first thing she'd taken out since this all started, and it most certainly looked like it wouldn't be the last.

 

She slammed on the brakes when the shadow turned into Vivienne, flanked by nightmares and two aspects of Dipper.

 

“Think it's really them?” she asked the rest of the passengers as both groups stared each other down.

 

Candy adjusted her glasses, examining the outsiders closer. “They are wearing flower crowns,” she noted. “Does Dipper even know how to make flower crowns?”

 

“He _is_ Mabel's brother,” Melody commented dryly from the backseat. There was a moment as everyone considered this, before nightmares and humans agreed as one, “Point.”

 

Meanwhile, the small Dipper riding a nightmare was waving at the people inside the truck happily. Grenda cracked the window to call to them.

 

“Well? You really Vivienne or not?”

 

Everyone in the truck silently rolled their eyes at the blunt question.

 

“Yes, it's really me,” Vivi replied anyway, in a voice layered with exhaustion. “I have Dipper's childishness and pettiness with me. Can we ride with you? Keeping these two in line is wearing me out.”

 

“There's no more room in the cab, you'll have to ride in the back,” Grenda announced.

 

Vivi just shrugged. “Good enough,” she replied.

 

“I thought you taught kindergarten?” Candy asked curiously as Vivi boosted Childishness up into the back of the truck.

 

Vivi rolled her eyes. “I do,” she said, “and this is still exhausting.” One of the nightmares gave her a boost into the back before they both jumped in, with Pettiness settling in after them. “Okay, I'm wedged in with nightmares. Good as it's going to get back here.”

 

“Hold on back there,” Grena warned her. “It's like something's trying to keep us away from the Shack.”

 

“Somehow I'm not surprised,” Vivi called back tiredly. “Let's get to it.”

 

* * *

 

Pacifica wasn't sure how long she'd been walking, but it was far too long. She wasn't meant for all this walking ridiculousness!

 

Dipper's Dork wasn't helping, since he kept going on and on and on about his nerd game. It might not have been so bad, except it was distracting and _he wouldn't quit_.

 

His Inner Mabel wasn't helping either, skipping along the path and humming, much like the regular Mabel...or at least, regular Mabel when it was a normal day and she was hyped up just a bit.

 

It was seriously getting under Pacifica's skin. Not that she didn't love regular Mabel, regular Mabel was one of her closest friends. But combine the careless attitude with Dork's monologue and the constant danger and it was scraping Pacifica's last nerve raw.

 

Of course, that was when everything just had to get worse, as the bushes in front of the group exploded.

 

Pacifica screamed, flailing with her golf club, and felt it connect with something, difficult to tell just what in the miasma of leaves and branches and something big and black.

 

Whatever she had hit let out a “B͘A̛͘A̡A̸A̡҉!' of surprise, and Pacifica stopped swinging, backing away. 

 

The greenery settled and a nightmare stood there, shaking off the last of the leaves. It gave Pacifica a reproachful look, and she snapped, “If you don't want to be smacked, you shouldn't jump out at people! It's been a long enough day without that crap!”

 

There was cackling from behind the nightmare, who flicked its ears and got out of the way as another nightmare, this time with a rider, came out of the bushes.

 

“Damn right,” Lucy Ann gloated. “Serves you right for barging ahead like that.”

 

She grinned at Pacifica, a grin full of fangs that would have been more unnerving if Pacifica wasn't used to Dipper pulling a similar trick.

 

The bushes rustled again and another human shoved through, one Pacifica recognized a few seconds later as Acacia's wife Reina. Reina was dragging a tiny Dipper along behind her by the scruff of his suit, and one of the three nightmares following her had another draped over his back.

 

A third Dipper followed, carefully smoothing down his suit when the bush threatened to snag it, a fourth close behind.

 

Reina and Pacifica shared a nod of greeting. “So, Reina's dragging Mischief,” Lucy Ann said, leaning on the head of her mount, “and Baaasly got stuck carrying Rejection. Vanity's the one worried about his suit, and Arrogance is sulking, though for once I don't blame him, I kinda didn't pull any punches on him. Who'd you find?”

 

Pacifica gestured at the two aspects peering over her shoulders, suddenly grateful for the others' appearance as it had stopped their antics. “Inner Mabel and Dork. I'm so glad to find someone other than another Dipper, seriously. Do any of you have any idea if we're anywhere close to the Shack? Everything's all turned around.”

 

“Things seem to be getting worse the closer we get,” Reina said seriously. “I think we need to hurry.”

 

* * *

 

Stan shoved another branch out of the way, snapping it off and letting it fall. Remorse was bundled onto Baaazelbub's back, since otherwise he would lie on the ground in a miserable puddle and Stan had gotten sick of dragging him around by the leg very quickly.

 

Stan's little pep talk had worked for awhile, but apparently being the sole receptacle of all of Dipper's remorse meant it hadn't lasted long.

 

Grocknar the Destroyer took up the back of their little parade, keeping watch, as the woods grew darker around them.

 

“S͝omet̨hin҉g̡ a͟hea͢d̡ is͠ ̵a͝ttȩm̷pt͏i͞n̢ģ ̕t̴o s̡top u̸s͞,” Grocknar the Destroyer warned.͞ “I̕t is ̷nǫt ͞strong ye̛t͘,͢ b̸ut it wil̨l ̷b̷e strong͏e̕r̷ ͡th͠e̡ clo͡s̵er͢ ͟we̛ ģet̸ ţo th̴e Shac̛k, I cąn̛ ̴f͟ee̛l ̢i̡t.”

 

“Of course something's trying to stop us,” Stan muttered. “Fits. And don't you start again!” he added louder, over his shoulder, to the aspect huddled atop the demon sheep. “You can feel sorry for yourself after we get you back together! And quit avoiding all of us, too.”

 

Remorse didn't say anything, just huddled in tighter atop Baaazelbub.

 

Stan grunted and cleared another foot of path. He paused, cocking his head.

 

“Hey! Who's over there!” he demanded. Remorse raised his head as Grocknar and Baaazelbub reared wings and spiny tails, readying for battle.

 

And Ford stepped out of the bushes, the strange laser gun he had brought back with him raised and eyes wide. “Sweet Moses, Stanley, I almost shot you!”

 

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Stan muttered. “Hello to you too, bro.”

 

“Stanley...” Ford said, trailing off, at a loss.

 

“And here comes the awkward silence,” a voice said, Dipper's voice yet with a nasty edge to it, one Dipper didn't have. Not unless he was being truly cruel, on the edge of going full demon. “Of course, if you actually talked to each other, and actually listened, maybe it wouldn't be so awkward, now would it?”

 

Ford glared at the Dipper who floated out of the woods next to him, examining his claws as he did.

 

The Dipper smirked at Stan. “I'm Dipper's inner Darkness,” he said before Stan could ask. “You know, that bit all Pines have? And I see you found Dipper's remorse. Isn't this going to be a fun group.”

 

“Hoo boy,” Stan muttered. He glanced at his twin again, silently noting the fatigue on Ford's face and wondering just what put it there. “Yeah, let's just get this taken care of. Shack's this way.” With that, he started walking again.

 

“Stanley, how do you know that's the right way?” Ford asked from behind them, and Stan rolled his eyes.

 

“Get with the program, Ford,” he said, turning to point with a thumb in the direction he'd been headed. “This is the kid's mindscape. He's gonna want us all together so he can keep us safe. So he's going to be herding us to the Shack.”

 

“How can we be sure of that?” Ford asked, and Stan was about to snap at him when the misery of the question came through. “I was wrong before, I...I accept that now. But there's something in these woods trying to keep us away from the Shack.”

 

“You do, huh?” Stan asked, glancing over at the smug Darkness. Ford, for his part, was looking over the huddled Remorse, who was still stained with golden blood and whose wounds had yet to heal, despite being at least partially in the mindscape.

 

Stan groaned. “I'm not qualified for this,” he muttered, looking over at Remorse himself. “This is too much emotional crap for one day.”

 

“I just don't understand what caused all this,” Ford said as they began walking. “I know what I did had something to do with it, and I'm sorry for that. I never meant to cause Dipper pain, I just wanted to protect our family. But I just don't understand. Even when Bill brought about Weirdmaggedon, he didn't merge the mindscape with reality like this. It should be absolutely impossible for this sort of thing to happen.”

 

“Well that's our family for you, Poindexter,” Stan grunted, shoving a branch out of the way. “We keep doing things that should be impossible and nearly destroy the world.”

 

Ford's mouth opened and closed a few times, and Darkness watched him cautiously, but in the end he didn't say anything as he followed behind his brother.

 

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

The silence over the older Pines twins was oppressive, almost as oppressive as the air around Remorse.

 

Darkness was, for once, keeping his comments to himself, instead floating quietly behind the twins.

 

Not that it was helping Ford's state of mind any. His thoughts were still in a whirl, trying to piece together Dipper from the Darkness and Remorse he and Stanley had found.

 

One of the nightmares – there were so many of them already, and weren't demons supposed to only have a few since they had to provide them power? No, focus Ford, he reminded himself, if Dipper can stand to speak to you later you can ask him then – led the way towards the Shack and Stanley's plan? Hope? That everyone would be there.

 

True, everyone had agreed to meet there, but who knew what lurked in Dipper's mindscape.

 

As if the thought had conjured it up, the trees bowed in an unfelt wind, and Darkness and Remorse pressed closer to their Grunkles.

 

“There it is,” Darkness whispered. “The part you were so afraid of. You think I'm bad? Just wait.”

 

The wind roared fiercer, and up ahead, a tree uprooted itself, branches reaching to the ground to brace itself as it wrenched out of the ground to stand on its roots.

 

It roared and took two steps toward them and they tensed, ready to fight, save for Remorse who huddled down deeper into Stan's jacket and waited in resignation.

 

The tree paused and the winds ceased, the whole world seeming to hold its breath, before the tree toppled in front of the group, blocking the way and going as harmless and still as a normal tree.

 

Faintly, Fort heard voices, and he saw his brother's shoulders relax a fraction, though he still held his fists up and ready.

 

“Sounds like Henry,” Stan said quietly. “But I'm not...”

 

A blur of black, brown, and white came flying over the tree, arms outstretched towards Stan and squealing, making the colors burst in the trees around them, brighter and brighter, sparking off like fireworks in explosions of glitter.

 

Stan swore as he was tumbled to the ground by the force of whatever had attacked, and his name was wrenched from Ford's lips without his conscious decision, reaching for his brother for an instant before the gun was out of its holster, pointed in their direction though he didn't dare shoot for fear of hitting his brother.

 

Stan and his attacker skidded to a halt on the path they'd been following, and Ford hesitated when the creature resolved into another aspect of Dipper, this one clinging to Stan and rubbing his face against Stan's shirt, purring so hard Ford could see it from where he stood. The new Dipper seemed perfectly content to stay where he was, clinging as Stan tried to sit up, wincing and complaining the entire way.

 

Cautiously Ford approached, and heard words mixed in with the purring, Stan's name and “love” and “love _you_ ” primarily.

 

“What on earth...?” he said in utter bewilderment as the nightmares chuckled behind them.

 

Darkness floated over to hover above Stan and the new Dipper, grinning at Ford. “The reason I don't get to take control all that often,” he said, still smirking at Ford as Stan tried to gain his feet, a prospect made more complicated by the demonic aspect clinging to him and refusing to let go.

 

“Sorry!” They heard from the other side of the tree, and Henry's head appeared over it, sandwiched by Acacia and Wendy, all three tall enough to look over the fallen tree. “He heard one of you and got loose. Obviously, that's Love.”

 

“Yeah, I guessed,” Stan grunted, still trying to rise. The trio of redheads clambered over the fallen tree, followed by another adult-sized Dipper and six nightmares, one of whom was carrying a child-sized Dipper by the scruff of his suit.

 

The child sized Dipper was most decidedly sulking as he dangled from the nightmare's mouth, though it was obviously being gentle with him.

 

Wendy leaned on her ax, watching Stan with a good deal of amusement as Acacia and Henry helped him up. Love kept clinging to him like a demonic koala with no intention of letting go anytime soon.

 

“That's Anger,” she said, jerking her thumb at the child Dipper, “and Bloodlust,” she said, and the adult Dipper turned his face away, arms crossed. “He's promised to come quietly. Anger, not so much. But it's mostly just ranting about how unfair the whole thing it, so it's cool. Figure he's got a right to that.”

 

Ford was eying Bloodlust with a great deal of misgivings. “Well, Stanley found Remorse while I've found Darkness,” he said, never able to pass up importing knowledge (or lecturing, as Stan called it). “I have to admit, the number of negative aspects we are finding does not sit well with me.”

 

Acacia puffed up with anger at the insult to her uncle, while the more pragmatic Henry shrugged. “We've just been unlucky enough to find them, I'm sure everyone else found more positive ones,” he said. “We know they exist.”

 

“Could be because of the circumstances, dude,” Wendy said, a hint of censure to her voice. “I mean, didn't exactly happen because he was in a good place, yanno?”

 

Ford looked away for a moment and coughed but didn't argue Wendy's point. “Well, whatever the reasons, we all have to get to the Shack,” he said instead. “Stanley was leading the way, but it will be safer to all go together, no matter what aspects we found.”

 

Acacia rolled her eye and pushed past her Grunkle, though gently. “It's not like we're in danger from them,” she said sourly. “It's _Uncle Dipper_. He knows us. He's not going to hurt us. Not...not on purpose,” she said, hand drifting towards one of the woulds scattered across her arms before it dropped.

 

Stan, with Love now riding piggyback and nuzzling against his hair, followed his niece, biting back the words that rose.

 

“You've said before that Dipper has come close,” Ford argued as he followed, dropping into line beside Henry, who watched him with some trepidation. He and Henry had never really gotten a chance to bond the way Henry and Stan had, though they still cared for each other. “That there were times he hurt people he cared about by accident.”

 

“Those were accidents,” Henry said, a little sharply. “Or other circumstances that meant the demon won for a bit. Look, he's always afraid the demon's going to win someday as it is, he doesn't need us thinking it and watching all the time, expecting it to happen.”

 

Behind them, the aspects were silent, and around them, the nightmares deliberately looked away, ostensibly keeping watch, while Ford looked up at this man who had stayed, had chosen to be around his demonic nephew, when so few would have blamed him for leaving.

 

Henry didn't say anything, instead taking a moment to watch Love snuggling Stan, who was pretending to be disgruntled about the attention while not fooling anyone.

 

Ford felt more than saw Darkness float up beside him and had to stifle the urge to jump or reach for his gun. “You're only partially right,” he said softly, almost conversationally. Ford tensed. So far, that tone of voice hadn't lead to any good conversations. “If you'd gone ahead with how you think things should have happened, things would have turned out differently. But you couldn't have fixed this by yourself. And if you'd gotten yourself killed doing it like you keep thinking you should have, it would have left everything even worse, considering you're the one who knew about Bill.”

 

“You don't know that,” Ford said stubbornly.

 

Darkness barked a laugh, a humorless, almost angry sound. “I _looked_ ,” he hissed. “I just _had_ to know. We're far too alike that way. It didn't help, by the way. I got to see Mabel die, Mabel get turned into a demon, Stan be turned into a demon or lose all of his memories, wiping his mind clean of Stanley Pines to defeat Bill. I saw worlds where each of my loved ones died to save the world and our family. I may have only been twelve, but do you really think I – that Dipper – would let someone else sacrifice themselves when he could save his family?”

 

Ford's mouth opened and closed a few times. On his other side, Henry muttered a quiet, “Darkness...”

 

Darkness crossed his arms with a sharp but subdued “He needs to hear this.”

 

“Now?” Henry asked, his voice still quiet, as if not to disturb whatever had torn down that tree, whatever still seemed to wait for them in the woods, its presence more a feeling than anything substantial but growing the farther they walked, the closer they came to the Shack.

 

“Dipper wouldn't say it,” Darkness hissed back, though Ford noticed that, while this was still Darkness, still the part that seemed to enjoy revenge and cruelty, it was refusing to lash out at Henry the way he'd half expected. “Even if he needs to say it. Not unless I was in control, and you know what that's like.”

 

Henry winced, but Darkness subsided as well, falling back to float alongside Bloodlust and the nightmares carrying Anger and Remorse.

 

Though he'd stopped talking, his words still echoed inside Ford's head as he looked ahead of them to where Love was still draped over Stanley's back, and the uncomfortable thoughts that bit like stinging insects never ceased their circling.

 

One of Love's ears twitched, and he glanced back to where Ford and Henry were walking. Scrambling, he hitched himself higher on Stan's shoulders, giving his Grunkle a nuzzle and kiss before pushing off and dropping to the ground. From there is was a quick jump up onto Henry (“Augh Dipper no not again!”) and a big hug and kiss before he turned to study Ford.

 

The look was slow, and cautious, and a bit scared, before Love apparently made up his mind and leapt onto a stunned Ford.

 

Ford froze, hands twitching as Dipper clung to him, purring softly, hair in his mouth and up his nose as Dipper rubbed his face against Ford's chest.

 

Henry patted Ford on the shoulder before following after Stan, who had paused to look back at his brother and nephew before nodding once, sharply, before continuing on.

 

“Um...I don't...?” Ford said, hands still hovering over Love.

 

Darkness snorted as he passed. “I told you. He forgave you. Just because you don't forgive and didn't forgive yourself doesn't mean he didn't.”

 

Ford was left, standing in the middle of the path, still gobsmacked, before Darkness turned again. “Come on, or you're gonna get left there.”

 

Slowly, still looking down at Love in disbelief, before cautiously, carefully, wrapping his arms around his nephew, Ford started walking again.

 

 

* * *

 

Hank had lost track of how long they'd been walking. He'd thought he'd known these woods, seeing as how he and his sisters had played in them since they were babies, but it was still unfamiliar around him. Waddles had dissipated long ago, and despite her best efforts, his mom hadn't been able to recreate him.

 

His mom was on edge, scanning the woods, tapping her bat against her free hand. Behind them, Curiosity and Adventurer had stopped straining at the child leashes, though they still craned their heads, looking all about them constantly. It seemed that even the oppressive feel that was starting to creep over these woods wasn't enough to quell them, and Hank was glad of it.

 

Gravity Falls seemed to be taking heart from their liveliness, even as something about these woods pressed down on the genius loci, and Hank hoped that this wasn't hurting them as much as he feared it was. Trust was floating behind them all, sullen but following.

 

If it was – and they had mentioned, before, that this wasn't good for them, that they needed this fixed as much as Uncle Dipper did – they weren't showing it yet.

 

Suddenly, both Curiosity and Adventurer's heads whipped around, staring into the bushes and trees with the intensity of a cat that Heard A Noise.

 

Hank and his mom tensed, and Mabel took point to investigate. Hank would have protested the protection – he could protect himself – but his knee was hurting, that needle sharp pain that said he'd been pushing it, and if he pushed it too hard, he was going to regret it badly.

 

“Uh, is someone there? Any dudes out there, ya hear me?” Uncle Soos' voice, distinct and recognizable, rang through the forest. None of the people or spirits in the group relaxed. There were things out here, and mimicking a voice wasn't difficult.

 

“Think it's really him?” Hank whispered.

 

“Soos managed to make himself a folk legend during the few days leading up to the Transcendence, wouldn't be surprised,” Mabel hissed back.

 

Gravity Falls came up beside them, head tilted to the side. Their face was paler than before, and Hank was more worried than ever when he got a good look at them.

 

“It is our Soos,” they said finally. “Along with two aspects and two nightmares.”

 

Mabel relaxed a fraction when Hank relayed the message before calling out. “Over here, Soos! It's Mabel and Hank! Oh, and some bits of Dipper.”

 

There was more rustling before Soos made his way through the brush, holding it open for the nightmares. An aspect leapt in front of him, sniffing at Mabel and Hank and Gravity Falls before relaxing, though his eyes kept darting around the group, keeping watch as the nightmares joined them. The second aspect trailed after them, muttering to himself and writing in a notebook.

 

“Hate to admit it, but I might be starting to get a little old for these really big adventures, dudes,” Soos said, taking off his hat to wipe at his forehead. “Found, found me Dipper's Survival Instinct – that's him there, sniffing everything – and Conspiracy Nut. What about you dudes? Ha, why're they on those little kid leashes?”

 

Mabel tilted her head to gesture at the aspects. “Hey Soos, meet Dipper's Trust Issues, Curiosity, and Adventurer sides. Turns out, without the other parts to balance him out, those two have got pretty much no self control. We'd've lost them an hour ago without the leashes.”

 

“Ha, so it's like when we had toddlers, got it,” Soos said, while both Curiosity and Adventurer looked highly put out at being compared to toddlers. “But who's holding the leashes?”

 

“Gravity Falls,” Hank broke in, turning back from watching Survival prowl around the group. “The genius loci of the town, that is. So far, the aspects and I are the only ones who can see them, but they're there.”

 

“Cool,” Soos said, and with Soos, it was that easy. “You dudes all ready to keep tryin' ta find the Shack? Only I think there's something out there tryin' ta keep us away from it. Haven't seen it yet, but Survival over there keeps getting real spooked.”

 

Survival's ear flicked back towards the group at hearing himself mentioned. Hank made his way over to Survival, hoping his knee would hold out the rest of the hike. He couldn't kneel closer to Survival's level, so he leaned on his staff.

 

“Do you see something out there?”

 

Survival glanced up at him, his ear flicking again. “See? No. Sense? Yes. Fluffernutter, think you can carry Hank? We need to get to the Shack, and we need to get there fast.”

 

“I can walk,” Hank protested as Fluffernutter trotted up to him, shifting in shape until they would be a comfortable ride.

 

Survival rose from his crouch as the others joined them, looking on in concern. “Dipper's demon is out there,” he said flatly. “The part that is all demon. And that aspect isn't thinking right now, so it's going to try and keep us away. We can't afford your knee giving out. So get on the sheep and get ready to hold on. This is going to be ugly.”

 

“But...it's Dipper,” Mabel protested, pausing and holding up a hand before Survival could speak. “And...this is the part that takes over when he loses control, isn't it? When he totally forgets about ever being human.”

 

Survival nodded solemnly, and the humans exchanged knowing and nervous looks before Hank got on the sheep. Mabel hefted her bat and Soos turned his hat backwards and they nodded back to Survival.

 

Nightmares in position around them, they began to move, Survival in the lead.

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

The Rainbow Basher inched cautiously through the thick woods. Technically, they'd made the Basher to withstand anything that could be thrown at it.

 

Problem was, one of the things that might be thrown at it in here was Dipper, and it was his power that helped make the Basher so impenetrable. Sure, there was way more than just demon power layered on the car – armor plating and spells from every species the Pines had made friends with were nothing to sneeze at – but in here, something just didn't feel right.

 

So while normally they would plow through the woods, lights blazing and speakers blaring, this time they took it inch by inch, with the humans and one aspect in the cab while the other aspects and nightmares took the bed of the truck. Vivienne had been in the bed of the truck along with Childishness and Pettiness, but Horror and the nightmares inside had insisted upon switching after a few miles, the better to protect the humans. It went against every nightmare instinct, but it was what the Master would want, and, if he should come through this whole and sane, he would help them heal if they were wounded, the nightmares were sure of it.

 

But there was something out there. Something that was making the trees groan and threaten to fall, making them reach out branches like limbs to slow them. Glimpses of something in the woods, a shadow with blazing gold eyes, and most of them were starting to have an idea of what it could be, but were hoping they were wrong. If they didn't say it out loud, if they didn't acknowledge it, then it wasn't true.

 

And slowly, piece by piece, dodging ruts that appeared in front of them and branches that tried to fall on the Basher, they made their way towards the Shack.

 

But all of them kept their weapons at the ready, and hoped that this wasn't something they needed out there.

 

* * *

 

Ford was still quiet as they walked, lost in thought. That could be a good thing, or a very bad thing...with Ford it was sometimes hard to tell what you were going to get.

 

Henry just hoped his grunkle-in-law was finally getting it. He knew Ford loved Dipper, and Dipper both looked up to and loved Ford, and he knew why everything was so strained between Stan and Ford and Dipper, but...it hurt to see them hurting.

 

Then again, they were all stubborn, and it could take awhile to get them to agree to something new.

 

Love had moved on to Acacia when Ford's mood had darkened, though every so often he would glance back at Ford before burying his face back into Acacia's arms, as though unsure of his reception if he should try and show affection toward Ford again.

 

Which was obviously not helping Ford's mood or dark thoughts.

 

Something in the darkness ahead growled, and they all froze. Golden eyes blinked open in the darkness, followed by another set, and another, until they were surrounded, some of the eyes in sets as though whatever looked at them had three or four or more.

 

Then, as one, they all blinked out again.

 

Darkness floated forward again, until he was between Henry and Ford. “That's the part you were afraid of,” he hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear. “That's what we got from _him._ That's the demon in me.”

 

Ford's hand went for his gun, and Darkness barked out a short, humorless laugh. “He's like me,” he said, floating towards Acacia and Wendy, who had taken up positions behind Stan. “No matter how much you want rid of him, you can't get Dipper back without him. At least, probably not. He's the part that means we had to power to make this happen,” he gestured around them at the forest. “As much as Dipper, as I, would like rid of everything that comes with being a demon, save the power, we can't.”

 

Ford's hand continued to hover over his gun for a moment before it dropped. He sighed, heavily. “If that's how it has to be,” he finally said, meeting Stan's eyes when his twin turned to look at him. “Whatever it takes to get our nephew back and save our family.”

 

Stan stared back at his twin for what felt like an eternity before he nodded, sharply.

 

Ford began to plan, out loud, mostly to himself. “Most ways of capturing a demon likely won't work, since this is our nephew,” he said first.

 

“Maybe not so much,” Bloodlust said, speaking up for the first time since Acacia had found her father. He shrugged when everyone turned to look at him. “Before I recognized Acacia, I was just Bloodlust. I'm still Bloodlust, but I remember more now. Maybe...”

 

“Maybe Dipper's demon is currently vulnerable to demonic deterrents currently!” Ford finished triumphantly.

 

Instantly a wind kicked up around them, howling angrily with screaming like a wild, enraged animal, sending tree branches whipping at the group, small rocks and sticks and more thrown up at them.

 

“I think he heard you!” Stan snapped as they all tried to shield themselves from debris. “Everyone, run for the Shack!”

 

With that, they all set off, Darcrack the Dreamer's Bane in the lead, using his bulk to clear a path and lead the way to the Shack as the debris continued to pelt them.

 

* * *

 

They could have been running for miles, or running a few feet, it was hard to tell in this world where nothing was quite as it seemed, but abruptly the wind picked up sharper than ever before dying, as swiftly as it had sprung up. Something in the woods snarled angrily, a sound low and menacing that continued even as the group slowed and stopped.

 

They didn't really have a choice. No matter how much ground they had covered, Stan and Ford were still older than they'd been during the last big adventure, and they couldn't run for long.

 

“I'm too old for this,” Stan groaned again, bracing himself on his knees. “Henry, check on the gloomy one, would ya? I think I hear him blaming himself again.”

 

Henry nodded and went to talk with Remorse, quietly bending over the aspect, who was still curled into a tiny ball wrapped in arms and wings. At least Remorse had stopped clawing at himself awhile back, though it looked like he was considering it again and Henry was the only thing stopping him.

 

Henry could handle it better than he could, Stan figured. Henry was better at the whole comforting thing, despite having parents even worse at the whole parenting thing than Stan's had been. Funny how that worked.

 

He felt someone come up beside him and saw the bottom of Ford's ridiculous coat at the edge of his vision. Groaning, he straightened, taking a little consolation in the fact that Ford looked as bad as he did, maybe even a little worse. He took less in the guilt in Ford's eyes, since Ford was one to deny his mistakes unless he was martyring himself for it.

 

“So, got any ideas for fixin' this?” Stan asked bluntly.

 

“Actually, I...” Ford swallowed, harshly, before continuing. “I was hoping maybe you did, Stanley. You know Dipper better than I do. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

 

“Eh, not that far off,” Stan grunted. “Dipper would do anything fer family. So if it were a choice between him and the family...”

 

“But this is Dipper's demon we have to find,” Ford said, fingers tapping together in an unsteady staccato. “He'll know us, and how we think. If his demon side is trying to keep us away from the Shack, then...what if he doesn't want put together? Or that part doesn't, at least? We need a plan, Stanley.”

 

“I mean it,” Ford said when Stan hesitated. “I...I want our family back.” The twins smiled at each other, hesitant, the bond they had nearly re-formed right after the Transcendence slowly trying to be fixed.

 

Then there was a noise and Ford's hand shot to his gun as he and Stan spun to face it, only for Stan to be tackled yet again by a bundle of color and brown hair and a squeal of “Grunkle Stan!”

 

“Ugh, Mabel sweetie, your grunkle can't breathe,” Stan grunted, though he patted her hair fondly as she squeezed one more before scrambling to her feet. Mabel hesitated for barely a split second before throwing her arms around Ford, giving him one of her patented rib-cracker hugs, and for a moment Ford allowed himself to hug back.

 

Then he gave in and pulled her off her feet into a proper hug, and Mabel squeaked before squeezing back, grinning hugely.

 

From behind her came Hank and Soos, followed by a group of aspects...two of which, to Ford's great confusion, were on child leashes being held by seemingly thin air.

 

Stan noticed it too, especially when the two aspects began pulling at the leashes, trying to see what was going on.

 

“Hank, mind explaining why parts of your uncle are on leashes?” he asked before Ford could. “And who's holding them?” He squinted, looking at the space holding the leashes closer. “Ugh. Are my cataracts getting worse? 's like I can almost see somebody there.”

 

Hank perked a little at that from his perch atop one of the nightmares – and despite the nightmare having grown to accommodate him, he still looked faintly silly perched atop the sheep while also the slightest bit intimating, with all the spikes and teeth. “It's Gravity Falls,” he said. “The genius loci of the town. They're here because this is hurting them, too. And those two are on leashes because they're Uncle Dipper's Curiosity and Adventurer aspects, and if I didn't have those they'd have been gone hours ago.”

 

Ford blinked a few times, looking at Curiosity with an expression Stan and Hank couldn't quite read, but that seemed softer than they'd expected.

 

Finally Ford huffed and turned back to watch the others. “Who else did you find?” he asked. “We need to get moving soon, Dipper's demon aspect is making things difficult and we have to get out of here before he comes back. Wait, nevermind, you can tell us at the Shack. Everyone! We need to keep moving!”

 

“Oh yeah, something was chasing us out there,” Soos said, as if he'd forgotten for the moment. “Guess we'd better hurry.”

 

“The Shack's this way!” Mabel announced, pointing in the direction they'd all been heading in. “Come on, let's move!”

 

Stan groaned but started running again.

 

* * *

 

The Rainbow Basher eased its way through a particularly tough patch, and Grenda winced at the noise of branches against the sides of the truck.

 

The Basher was tough, but the way they were going, even she might need a touch up on her paint job after this was all over.

 

Then again, maybe Dipper would feel guilty enough to do it for cheap.

 

There had been a lot of crashing and noise from the woods, growling and glowing eyes threatening from the shadows, but it had felt as if whatever was threatening them was distracted by something else.

 

That was fine with pretty much everyone in the Basher, though they did worry about whoever did have the attention of whatever it was.

 

They had to get to safety, then they could worry properly. For now, it looked like the woods might finally be clearing, and they were seeing landmarks again, things they recognized.

 

There was a faint halloo from outside, and Grenda slowed the Basher. In the front passenger seat, Candy hefted her laser blaster, on edge and waiting.

 

“Over there!” Melody said, pointing at the forms of four of Dipper's nightmares.

 

Someone tiny was riding the closest, and Vivi squinted out the window, adding, “It's Lucy Ann!”

 

“Who votes we believe it's her?” Candy asked as the nightmare trotted closer, though it kept enough distance that if they weren't who they appeared to be, there would be time to get away. “We've been right each time so far.”

 

“Looks like you've got a lot of the dork with you,” Lucy Ann said, gesturing at the back of the Basher with a thumb. “I found Vanity and Arrogance, plus Reina and Pacifica along with the bits of the dork they found. They're up ahead.”

 

The aspect that had come to float next to Lucy Ann crossed his arms huffily, muttering, “ 'm not a dork.”

 

Lucy Ann looked up at him flatly. “Pacifica literally found the part of you that was playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons and is happy to be labeled as 'Dork'. You. Are. A. Dork.”

 

“It's them,” Vivi said flatly, watching Lucy Ann and Dipper's Vanity bicker. “Do you need a ride?” she called to them.

 

“The others went ahead, they could see the Shack,” Lucy Ann said, breaking off her staring contest with Vanity. “We're almost there.”

 

“Oh thank goodness,” Melody muttered. “What? I was starting to worry about the gas in this thing, who knows when Mabel last topped it off,” she added when eyes turned to look at her.

 

Grenda shrugged. “Fair enough. Lead the way?”

 

Lucy Ann shrugged and nudged the nightmare she was riding, who rolled his eyes but started moving, Vanity trailing alongside them while the Rainbow Basher followed, the path suspiciously clear.

 

* * *

 

There was a group of nightmares, aspects, Reina and Pacifica on the porch of the Shack when the Rainbow Basher pulled up.

 

“It sounds like someone's inside,” Pacifica said when everyone began to pile out of the truck. “We were waiting to go in together.”

 

“I thought this place would be safe?” Reina said as everyone pulled out their weapons.

 

A collective shrug met the half question. “Should be,” Candy agreed. “But might not be. Best to search and be sure.”

 

“This is Dipper's sanctuary,” the aspect that looked like Mabel piped up. “Someone else probably just got here first.”

 

“Let's find out,” Lucy Ann declared, and everyone braced themselves.

 

* * *

 

Willow had explained as much as she dared to this little Dipper. He sat and listened, though she could see he was bursting with questions, now that whatever was outside had stopped...though to be fair, he'd bee full of questions then, too.

 

“But that doesn't make sense!” he burst once she was finished, beginning to pace the small attic room. “A human and a demon can't merge like that!”

 

Privately, Willow was glad she hadn't told him everything just yet – like how they were related. Out loud, she said, “I didn't tell you everything, I just got a few main points...”

 

“Why? Why aren't you telling me everything? What aren't you telling me?”

 

“Things you're supposed to already know,” Willow said, barely keeping her temper in check.

 

“Like what? What am I supposed to know?” Dipper demanded, throwing his arms up in frustration. “There's a demon outside, Mabel and Stan are _gone_ , and I have no idea what's going on except what you told me, which doesn't sound plausible!”

 

“I don't even know who you are, why should I trust you?” Dipper asked, suddenly panicked, when Willow tried to speak. He backed away towards the door, clutching the Journal to his chest. The colors surrounding her uncle's Innocence were swirling so brightly he was almost difficult to look at, like the portal that sometimes haunted her nightmares.

 

“I'm your niece!” Willow broke, and Innocence froze. “I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't sure you'd believe me, but this is a combination of _your_ mindscape and Gravity Falls.”

 

“But...you're an adult,” Innocence said faintly. “That means...Mabel...”

 

“You're the part of Uncle Dipper from before it all happened,” Willow said as Innocence sat down on the bed, stumbling over to it with his head in his hands. “I wasn't sure what you remembered, but I didn't want to ruin anything.”

 

“If...if this is my mindscape, then I probably would have had to remember sooner or later,” he said slowly.

 

Willow finally gave in and hugged her uncle. He gave a surprised squawk, going stiff, before hugging back.

 

And they both froze.

 

“You heard that too, right?” Innocence said, and Willow nodded.

 

Someone was trying to get into the Shack.

 

The pair tumbled off the bed, and Willow snatched the fire pots Aunt Candy had given her, while Innocence grabbed a golf club.

 

They crept down the stairs, laying in wait. The knob rattled again and Willow nodded to Innocence, both hefting their weapons higher and waiting as the door creaked open.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

The trees thinned, and though the bushes, the group could see the Shack.

 

“Ugh, finally,” Stan said. “Sooner we get in there, sooner we can start waiting for everyone else to show up and start planning.”

 

Mabel squinted into the brightly lit clearing, shading her face with her hand, bat over her shoulder. Suddenly she shrieked, everyone around her wincing away and covering their ears. “Candy! Grenda! Girls!”

 

Ahead, in the clearing, what Mabel had already seen became clear to the rest as they came out of the bushes and got a better look.

 

What they had thought to be a mass, another monster to try and fight their way past, on the other side of the building was the Rainbow Basher, her colors shifting in the uncertain light and making her blend into the background in ways she never had before.

 

And by the Shack's door was clustered a group of humans, aspects, and nightmares, with Candy and Grenda peeling off the group to come hug Mabel.

 

“We think there's someone inside the Shack!” Grenda announced. “We gotta get in there!”

 

“Never ends,” Stan and Ford groaned as one. They glanced at each other in surprise and dawning hope before turning back to the task at hand, dismissing it for the moment.

 

“Do you have any idea who might be in there?” Ford asked, mentally calculating everyone when Grenda and Candy hesitated. “I don't see...Willow, I think she's the only one not here yet? Unless someone else followed you girls?”

 

They were quiet for a moment, looking between each other. Ford turned to the aspects around them, addressing them. “Can any of you sense Willow? Or who might be inside?”

 

The aspects avoided looking at each other, though finally one of them, Ford believed it was Dipper's Survival Instinct, spoke up. “ 's hard to tell where anyone is,” he said, though he looked as though it was difficult to admit. “What I'm split like this, my powers aren't working like they should.”

 

Ford paused, staring at Survival for a moment in mingled disbelief and dismay, before continuing. “O...kay. Would have been good to know that ahead of time. Still, there's a chance it's Willow inside. We should go investigate, but be ready for it to be an ally instead of a foe.”

 

“And be prepared for random fireballs, since Will didn't get the memo,” Acacia added to her brother in a not-so-quiet undertone. Several aspects had to hide a laugh, looking away innocently when humans or nightmares turned to look at them.

 

“Let's get inside,” Mabel declared. “If it's Will, then it's still safe, if not, it feels safer, and we need to regroup. Everyone, onwards!”

 

With that cry, Mabel led the charge towards the Shack.

 

 

* * *

 

The door rattled in its frame, loud noises coming from outside. Some of them sounded familiar, muffled by wooden logs and distance.

 

Willow nodded at Innocence, who hefted his golf club a little higher.

 

“Wait for the signal,” she whispered. “It might still be someone we know.”

 

“Or it could be that demon trying to get in!” he argued back.

 

Then there was no more time for arguing as the door flew open and people flooded into the Shack.

 

The next minute was a cacophony of chaos as everyone yelled and got in each others way, until they all, one by one, stopped yelling and looked at each other sheepishly.

 

The living room of the Shack wasn't really big enough for all of them, which added to the chaos, especially with all the nightmares pressed in among them.

 

Willow and Innocence watched from the stairs, frozen, until Willow began to laugh.

 

The laughter broke the spell, everyone turning to look as Willow's name rang out from multiple throats.

 

She put down the fire pots and ran to greet her family while Innocence hung back on the stairs, watching everyone warily. The other aspects wordlessly made their slow way towards the stairs, the leashes on Curiosity and Adventurer dissipating as Hank let them go, gathering in the kitchen. Some looked at each other curiously while others refused to make eye contact, all of them watched by Innocence, still on the stairs.

 

The nightmares did the same, only they congregated in the Shack's museum and gift shop, restored to how they were that fateful summer, as it was the largest part of the house at the moment.

 

Finally the humans began to quiet down, relief at finding each other giving way to wondering about what to do next. They looked around, finally finding the aspects crowded into the kitchen, all of them being careful not to touch each other.

 

Still, that didn't mean they'd stopped moving. Anger was pacing circles by the door, smoke rising from the scorching linoleum underfoot. Vanity had found one of the few pans not too dented to hold a reflection and was inspecting his suit in it, while Childishness was hiding under the table and giggling at them all. The darker aspects of Dipper were hovering away from each other, carefully looking out the windows or away from each other, while the lighter aspects watched or fiddled with things or stared at the humans longingly, each according to their nature.

 

The silence was awkward, with Innocence still staring at them all, obviously biting back questions, no one quite sure what to say or where to begin.

 

Finally, Pacifica was the one to break the silence. “So...you going to go back together now or what?” she asked, and her usual tone wasn't enough to mask the worry.

 

Several aspects looked at each other, though none moved. Finally Darkness, who seemed to be the most talkative of all the aspects, spoke. “We can't,” he said flatly. “For one, we still need the demon that's outside, and for another, who said we were ready for that?”

 

* * *

 

The silence that followed that announcement was deafening and painful. Then everyone but the aspects, human and nightmare alike, erupted into another bout of chaos, louder and more agitated than before.

 

The aspects reacted according to their individual traits, shrinking away or glaring or ignoring the outburst.

 

“It's true,” Remorse said quietly, cutting through the babble. “We didn't earn it yet. We're still too fragile.”

 

“And we need the one outside,” Darkness spat, mildly smug but also somehow surly. “You need all the parts, not just the ones you like. And I don't know how you'll convince _him_ to go along with this.”

 

People began talking again when Mabel stepped forward, out of the group. “Okay, quiet everybody!” she announced. She pointed at Darkness, since that was the aspect that was most willing to speak. “You, I need to know what you mean by you're not ready to be back together yet. All of you. And we need to figure out how to get the demon outside into this.”

 

She looked over her shoulder at Ford, obviously expecting an argument, but he was staring at his hands, shoulders drooping and lost in thought. Mabel took a deep breath and let it go, knowing it was only a matter of time until somebody in this family started protesting and she had to keep her momentum going.

 

“How long do we have before this is permanent?” she asked, hoping the answer was 'forever'. “Or until it hurts you?”

 

“We're already hurting,” Darkness answered, trying to sound casual but not quite managing. “But permanent damage? That's a bit looser.”

 

“And that's not an answer,” Mabel said. She and Darkness glared at each other, and Darkness looked away first. Mabel huffed out another sigh, looking back over her shoulder at the rest of her family. “Guess we'd better figure out why he's not ready first, then we can focus on...” a loud rattling shook the Shack, the windows trembling in their frames, everyone forced to fight for their feet for the longest five seconds they'd felt in years. “...that,” Mabel finished.

 

Stan and Ford hung back as the rest of the family began to form into little groups, crowding around the door to the kitchen to hear as Mabel and Henry took the lead, stepping into the kitchen proper to talk to the Dippers.

 

* * *

 

Ford sank down onto the sofa in the living room, staring down at his hands. Stan dropped onto the sofa beside him, making Ford bounce on the old piece of furniture. He glared mildly at his brother, though Stan ostensibly didn't notice, watching the milling in the kitchen as Henry and Mabel tried to get some semblance of order among the aspects of his great-nephew.

 

“So, you...you ready to talk again?” Stan asked. “It sucks but we gotta do it, I guess. Or Mabel's gonna be mad at us again and she's got enough to deal with right now.”

 

“This is all my fault,” Ford said blankly, and Stan rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh, here we go again,” he said. “Other people can make choices too, yanno. Or do things. You're not the only person here. Dealt with the self blame enough from the kid already today.”

 

Ford sighed heavily. “That's not what I meant, Stanley,” he said. “I mean, it was my portal that started us all on this path to begin with. My pride that made me listen to Bill in the first place. You would have seen through him right away.”

 

Stan gave a huff of a laugh. “Remember you sayin' something like that when this all went down in the first place,” he said, leaning back a bit on the sofa. “Why is it we can only seem to talk to each other when we get a break during the big life or death stuff?”

 

Ford found himself snorting out a laugh at that despite himself. “Both too stubborn for our own good, I suspect.” He sighed again, glancing back over at the kitchen before turning his attention back to his brother. For once, this was something he couldn't fix, but... “If I hadn't still seen him in Dipper. If I hadn't tried to stop him. If I had never made those deals with Bill in the first place.”

 

“If I'd been faster, if Mabel got there first, if we had a better plan,” Stan shot back. “You can't always be the hero, Ford. Sometimes someone else has to take it. And this time, Dipper did.” He flopped back onto the sofa from where he'd begun to rise in his agitation. “We all keep fucking up. But the kids are better at forgiving then we ever were.”

 

“Sometimes I can do it,” Ford said, almost confidentially, and two hearts ached. This was what they had missed, what kept getting lost in the arguing and misunderstandings and pride. “I look at him and I see our great nephew. He's that boy I thought was so much like me. That he's still that boy that actually wanted to play D, D, and more D with me, and keen on the supernatural, but then he'll...something will happen, and I'll remember what my choices did to him.”

 

Stan glared at him. “Oh, so you're the only one who gets to feel guilty or shitty about this whole thing? Our great nephew died under my watch, Stanford! He _died_ and got turned into a _goddamned demon_ and he was just a kid! It should've been one of us, not the kid!” He fell back into the couch with a groan. “They trust us, Ford. We're the only adults that've been there for 'em. Dunno how we got to be the responsible ones, but it's true.”

 

“They deserve better than this,” Ford said quietly. “Better than all of this.”

 

* * *

 

Oblivious to the Stans' argument in the living room, Mabel and Henry looked at the aspects of their brother as Innocence hesitantly made his way down the stairs to join them, crouching on the bottom step. Mabel raised a brow but didn't comment as she caught sight of what looked to be...well, her.

 

Dipper was going to have to explain that one a little.

 

Mabel crossed her arms, staring down her brother's many aspects. Sometimes her brother needed her to coax the information out of him, but she had a feeling they were running out of time and they didn't have the luxury of coaxing at the moment.

 

“What do you mean, you're not sure you want to go back together yet?” she demanded. “And shouldn't there be more of you?”

 

There was a babble of sound as fifteen out of the twenty two aspects tried to talk at the same time, overlapping each other into an incoherent wall of noise.

 

Henry whistled, and it worked just as well now as it had when the triplets were little, cutting across the babble and making them all stop to look.

 

“Too many at once,” he said, more patiently than he felt. He, along with everyone else, ignored how the wind picked up again outside, the bleeding on the outside of the windows, the howls and screams of a demon circling the building. Dipper may have been able to come and go comfortably, but it seemed Dipper's demon alone couldn't. And they'd all been dealing with Dipper for too long for the theatrics to bother them much.

 

Henry looked over the aspects, mildly amazed at how he could tell the difference between them all, before pointing at Darkness. “You seem to know the most about what's going on here,” he said, before pointing at the Dork and Conspiracy Theorist. “And you two. So, think you can piece something together?”

 

The three aspects glanced at each other before Darkness heaved a sigh. “There aren't more aspects right now because...well, because of how we felt when it all happened,” he said finally. “Look, I don't know why I know this,” and that looked like it pained him to admit, and it was obviously taking effort to speak civilly, to not taunt and turn this into pointed commentary towards Mabel and Henry, likely only managed because of the way Love was glaring at him, “but we're some of the strongest parts of Dipper's personality, and some of the strongest emotions he was feeling when we...split.”

 

Mabel was nodding as Darkness spoke. “Makes sense,” she agreed when he fell silent. “Now...” she leaned closer to Darkness until she was less than an inch from his nose, the aspect leaning away while refusing to actually step back, “what did you mean, not ready to be Dipper again?”

 

Privately, the people watching were a bit impressed, including Ford, who had been dealing with Dipper's Darkness all day and knew just how nasty that particular aspect could be, yet it still backed down from Mabel, ears tilting down and glancing away while physically refusing to move.

 

“It's true,” Remorse spoke up, dully, still looking down at the floor he was sitting on, though Henry noticed the other aspects had somehow managed to place that particular aspect in the center of the kitchen, far from the cutlery drawers. “We've done terrible things. We've caused so much pain. We don't deserve anything better than this.”

 

“Oh, not this again,” Henry heard Mabel mutter under her breath. A bit uncharitable, but Dipper did get in a loop sometimes like this, blaming himself for things out of his control alongside the things he had done. “Is that what all of you think?” she asked louder. “That you don't...that you shouldn't be like this?”

 

“Don't get me wrong, the powers are nice,” Darkness said, examining his claws as the rest of the aspects murmured, most of them agreeing with Remorse. “Maybe it's just a Dipper thing, maybe it's a Pines thing, to enjoy having power where we can get it.”

 

“But the rest of it?” another aspect broke in, smoothly, as if they were again only talking to Dipper. Henry wasn't sure, but he thought this one had been introduced as Horror, mostly at Dipper's new instincts and desires. “I'm pretty sure there's a few of us that wouldn't be here or near so strong if it weren't for the whole demon part. I shouldn't even exist!” Horror snapped.

 

“Everything hurts,” Remorse chimed in. “All I do is hurt people, including all of you.”

 

There was a surge of noise then, different aspects no longer holding back but voicing their reasons against rejoining with the demon, against reforming at all. They were joined seconds later by the rest of the family, arguing and shouting, refusing to accept the reasons Dipper's aspects gave.

 

The argument faltered and grew quiet when the seven nightmares stepped forward from the rest. The original Seven, whom Dipper had inherited from Bill, who had been with him from the first. Groknar the Destroyer, Grazer of Eternity, Horace the Hooved Horror, That of Teeth, Darcrack the Dreamer’s Bane, Lolonja, and Killer trotted away from the safety of the rest of the flock, their hooves tapping a staccato against the wooden floors as they came to face the aspects of their Master.

 

There was silence as aspects and nightmares stared at each other until Lolonja, again the leader in the emotional situation, tapped a hoof on the floor.

 

“You a̢re o͠ur Ma̵s̕ter,” ͟she said, look up at the aspects sternly, yet pleadingly. “We̷ wi̵ll͢ fo͢l͞l̕o͠w ͝yo͏u ̕wh̶er͟e͞v͝er ̶y̡ou͢ sh̷al͡l̕ go.͞ B͝u̶t͟ e̴v͠en w̢e ̸know҉ t̶his ̢is̴ ͠hųrt̨i̵ng ̴you.̴ ̧A̵n̡d i̷t҉ hu̕r͝t̛s us.̧ M҉os͞t҉ Mast͜er̕s woul̶d ͡not̡ care, ̡but̡ ͝w̷e҉ k͏now̕ you͘ d̴o.͠ ̸Becaus̷e bąck̶ ̛w̡hen̕ ̕t̨he̷re w͏a̕s̨ just t͟he ̡seve͏n of ͢ųs,̵ ͡you̴ m͏ad͢e us̷ a pr̸o̧mi͢s͠e̡.̸ ̛T͟ha̸t͟ ͢y̢ou ̡would ͡look̨ a̷fte̴r ̡u̵s͟ ͞an͝d ͏ta͝k̨e͟ ̸car͏e̵ o̕f uş.̶ And̡ ͠w͟e͝ pr̛om͞i̡sed ̛t̡he s̛a̢me͏ ̨in ͜reţu̷r̵n, ҉onc̨e̕ ͘w͡e ͡k͠ne̶w you͢ ̷m͜e̴a͠n͡t it.̸ ҉We ҉tr͟ųs̸t̴ you.̴ We lov̡e ̵y̢o̸u̴. Ąnd ͟s͞ơ d҉o tḩe huma̡n͘s you ̸c̷all҉ fąmil͘y̸. ”

 

It was an impressively long speech for a nightmare. The other seven were nodding in agreement with Lolonja's words, watching their Master closely.

 

“What do we have to do to get you back?” Groknar the Destroyer asked, and the aspects flinched away, none of them meeting the nightmares' eyes.

 

“Uncle Dipper,” Hank said, stepping up beside his parents. He was leaning heavily on his cane, his knee having been through a lot today, and most aspects were having difficulty looking at him. “We need you, and you need us. You can't get on our case for never asking for help when you won't do it either. Stop being stubborn, this once. We all know you need help, and you have us to help.”

 

Willow stepped up beside her brother, Acacia flanking her sister. “Hank's right. Uncle Dipper, you don't have to do this alone. Let us help.”

 

“Big words coming from you,” Darkness said, “all things considered.” Love nipped at his hand and he jerked it away, scowling down at the aspect as the bite welled with golden blood for a moment before fading.

 

Willow took a deep breath and stood tall between her siblings. “You're the only one in this family worse about asking for help than I am,” she replied firmly.

 

“Uncle Dipper, you're hurting yourself,” Acacia chimed in, fingers tapping a rapid tattoo against her arm. “Don't say you aren't. We've all met your bits here. We all know how much you're hurting now. How're we supposed to help if you're all split up?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the end!  
> ...aaaand I'm still not sure how I'm going to end this. Lots of stuff took my attention away and I still haven't had that lightbulb moment. But I will find an ending. I will.


	23. Chapter 23

Darkness snarled softly and turned away from the family, wings giving a little flair. “I can't be kind anymore,” he said flatly. “I've been pushing it as it is.”

 

“You call what you've been doing kind?” Pacifica asked incredulously.

 

Darkness turned back in a flash, in her face less than a second later. “I am Dipper's Darkness,” he hissed, and Pacifica stiffened, keeping herself in place through willpower and pride even as every instinct screamed to get away from the demon. “I am the liar, the conman, the part that enjoys revenge and being cruel. I should have been demanding something in exchange for what I've done so far. Yes, I have been being kind. I am still enough Dipper to keep from demanding anything of you, but it is a close thing, Pacifica. A very, very close thing.”

 

Pacifica took a long, deep, shaky breath as the aspect backed away, watching her with flat, blank eyes. Apparently satisfied, he darted up to the top of the fridge and perched there, watching them all sharply, legs crossed and one hand tapping out a rhythm on his knee.

 

“I think that's all we're getting out of him for awhile,” Ford said quietly, he and his brother finally standing from where they had still been talking in low voices on the couch to join the rest of the family looking into the kitchen. “I was...with him for a bit. Your brother can be rather vicious when he puts his mind to it.”

 

Mabel glanced at Ford out of the corner of her eye, cautiously hopeful.

 

The smile Ford gave her in return was a little shaky, steadying as Stan puts a hand on his twin's shoulder. “I've spent too long avoiding all of you out of...of misguided guilt and fear,” he said, touching his brother's hand. “Can any of you tell us why this happened? How this happened?” he asked louder, directing it towards the aspects.

 

“You mean, wondering if it was your over-reaction with the holy water that did it?” Darkness called from the top of the fridge, grinning at Ford's wince. Darkness leaned back on one hand, legs still crossed. “Nah, that was just the last straw.”

 

The rest of the aspects began to talk again, going quiet when Mabel held up a hand. The demon outside slammed against the shield in the silence, making everything hung on the walls jump and the house sound like it was about to collapse, but it stood firm.

 

“What do you mean, the last straw?” she asked, vaguely surprised at how calm she was still being. She wanted to scream, to demand her brother pull himself together and talk to them about this like an adult, even if that would do little to solve this. She wanted to break down into tears, to cry like a child and wail at the unfairness of it all, that again something terrible was happening and it was all falling onto her and her family to fix it. Maybe that was being a little unfair but she didn't care, she just wanted her brother back and for him to talk to them and for all this to be fixed.

 

Childishness was crying in a corner, while Fear of Rejection and Insecurity looked about ready to join him. Several others looked like they were on the verge of some kind of outburst of their own, and it would only take one more match to set it all ablaze.

 

Another aspect shrugged, and Mabel couldn't put a name to it – there were just too many, and there could have been so many more, but right now a good few of them were confused together in her mind – and spoke. “Maybe we – I – Dipper – has been having some trouble coping with things lately. Not just what happened a few months ago, just...everything suddenly piling in at once, with a flashback to that, and then the holy water...”

 

“I see...” Ford said quietly, and Stan punched his shoulder, if lighter than he could have, before Ford could start blaming himself again. Ford rubbed at the sore spot and shot his brother a look. “Earlier, you said that it was your family that kept you from giving in,” he said to the aspect of Darkness, still perched atop the fridge. For some reason it was easier to look at Darkness and address that one aspect than it was to address the group as a whole. “We're here now. We...we can try. But we'll be better if you'll reform into Dipper and talk to us.”

 

The aspects looked at each other again.

 

“That includes the one outside,” Darkness reminded Ford surprisingly gently. “We can't reform without all of us. The demon wasn't always part of us, but ever since the Transcendence, it's as much part of us as any other aspect, no matter how much Dipper may not like it. Think you still want Dipper back when it means the demon comes too?”

 

As if on cue, the demon outside wailed again, rattling the walls of the Shack as Dipper's gentler aspects hid or cowered from the sound. Darkness met Ford's eyes, raising his chin in obvious challenge.

 

“We all have our demons, Dipper's is simply more literal than most,” Ford said seriously. “I regret that it took all of this to finally make me understand.”

 

“We can't talk to you like this, not really,” Henry said. “Dipper, just...please. We need you back. All of you. For all the trouble the demon causes, we need all of you. Even that part. Please, Dipper.”

 

Darkness, who had still been doing most of the talking, huffed and refused to meet Henry's eyes. The other aspects, who had mostly been ignoring each other, were beginning to snarl and snap and argue, depending on the aspect and its temperament.

 

It was a cacophony of sound, voices overlapping and screeches intermingling with words until the whole was a sharp, harsh mass of sound, impenetrable and digging its way into the mind, impossible to ignore.

 

All of them arguing over whether or not to try and reform.

 

The gentler aspects were, by and large, unhappy about the idea of reforming with the darker aspects of Dipper's personality, especially the demon – but willing for the sake of their family.

 

The darker ones, although they were unwilling to harm family, didn't want to reform yet. They were free, able to indulge without the moral, the gentler, the stronger parts of Dipper's personality to keep them in check.

 

And outside, the sounds of a demon's cackling, rising over the sounds of the wind screaming and things striking the shield surrounding the Shack that was the only thing keeping Dipper's demon out.

 

And Mabel...Mabel finally broke. The tears welled up, despite her best efforts to quell them, and after a moment she didn't.

 

Let the older Pines hide how they felt, but not Mabel.

 

The children, next to their mother, reached for her as she pressed into Henry's side, but they weren't as fast as Love.

 

Love, who froze at the sight of Mabel's pain, who finally said something other than someone's name and declarations of love, as he nipped and shoved, scolded and snapped and bullied the other aspects into submission, into agreement.

 

They were going to reform into Dipper. For their family. For the love of them.

 

Finally only Darkness remained unbowed, still perched atop the refrigerator. The family still watched, silently shocked, as Love bullied the rest of the aspects. Until now, they hadn't realized it was one of, if not the strongest, aspect.

 

The rest of the aspects, crowded together on the other side of the kitchen, watched, silent and tense, as Love and Darkness stared each other down.

 

“I'm just as strong as you,” Darkness said quietly, eyes never blinking, never moving from Love. “You can't bully me.”

 

Love's ear flickered, the one closest to the family, and Darkness' eyes flickered over to them.

 

Mabel's tears had dried. She had rarely been one for long bouts of crying, and even her bouts of depression or sullenness had always been shorter than her brother, and she was dry eyed now, if still furious and still a bit desperate, staring at Darkness pleadingly, who couldn't meet her eyes even in the quick glance he threw her way.

 

“But you have always been stronger,” Darkness conceded softly, glancing over again at Ford. “in the ways that really matter. How did you plan to convince the demon? He won't respond to love. It's difficult to say what could happen, with the demon.”

 

His gaze traveled over the rest of the group, human and vampire and nightmare alike. “I really should be demanding a deal for all of this,” he muttered.

 

“We'll hug you and give you a few minutes to recuperate before we start the lectures,” Mabel said, and though her eyes still shone she was back to her normal, determined self.

 

Darkness looked back at her with a smirk that edged dangerously close to a fond smile. “Gonna need more than just a hug, but it's a start,” he said. He pushed off the edge of the refrigerator, drifting towards the ground. “Let's start planning.”

 

 

* * *

 

“This is a bad plan,” Stan grumped later (time was still difficult to pin down in this place, so they could never say later how long they spent planning and plotting and trying to find a way this could work.

 

“I know, Stan, but it's the best we could come up with,” Ford said, tamping down his exasperation with his brother.

 

“Doesn't mean I can't point that out,” Stan muttered, but Ford noticed he wasn't backing down. “Didn't say I wasn't doing it.”

 

Both men were standing just inside the door to the Shack, weapons at the ready. The rest of their family was at the door leading into the gift shop behind them, waiting for the signal follow the old men outside.

 

The aspects were still in the kitchen, waiting by the door for their own signal.

 

They had an idea – or, well, a few of them had managed an idea – for what it would take to get them all back together, but they weren't sure if would work if they didn't have all of aspects together at the same time.

 

Or what would happen if they did reform and then couldn't get the demon into the reformed Dipper.

 

None of them wanted to think of a demon with Dipper's power but none of his personality, the love and trust that kept him tethered to his sanity and humanity. They'd had a few close calls already, and the world couldn't handle more than that.

 

Outside the Shack, the formerly clear sky was going dark, going fully monochrome, as the wind whipped at the grass and the tress and the buntings hung around the Shack, the flapping cloth and creaking of branches the only sound above the low moaning of the wind.

 

The forest around the Shack was steadily growing darker and darker, until it was a strain to make out even the first row of trees.

 

Then, out in that darkness, a pair of glowing golden eyes blinked open.

 

Silently, Ford gave the whole affair an eight out of ten. Cliches were cliché for a reason, but that didn't mean they couldn't be improved upon. So, minus a few points for lack of originality.

 

Still, the soft, just-on-the-edge-of-audible snarls were very effective.

 

Each taking a deep breath, synchronized in ways they hadn't been for years, Ford and Stan nodded to each other and threw open the door.

 

They rushed onto the front porch, stopping still within the protection of the still intact unicorn hair, if only just. There they waited, looking out into the forest, straight at the two spots of light that were the demon's eyes.

 

Weapons at the ready they continued to wait, hearing the faintest noises as the rest of the family came up behind them, amazingly enough still staying inside the faint protections of the house.

 

Apparently tired of the wait, the snarls in the woods increased and the eyes blinked out.

 

“You know, until he took form in the physical world and tried to plunge us into eternal chaos, I don't think Bill managed to be this terrifying,” Ford whispered to his brother. “Not until you had a minute to realize what he'd done and for it all to sink in, at least.”

 

“...that a compliment or a complaint?” Stan hissed back, never taking his eyes off the trees.

 

“Why not both?”

 

The banter was cut short as shadows began to extend from the trees, reaching for the Shack. They came up short as they hit the circle of unicorn hair surrounding the building, a circle Ford was still somewhat surprised existed in the Mindscape version of the Shack they were all in.

 

More shadows flowed out of the darkness of the woods, slipping over the ground like liquid darkness, twisting and twining around each other until they puddled in front of the porch. From there they began to rise, a lump, a column, strands of oil slick, dripping shadows twining around the column that split as it rose, the two arm like tendrils still connected to the mass not only at shoulders but by ropes that drooped and slid away until they were thin enough to snap and puddle back into the shadows.

 

Finally the head formed as the figure straightened, and two slits appeared in the oily, tarry mass, slamming open into eyes and glowing with golden light.

 

The grin followed, splitting open the tar of the face and stretching wide, strands of black tar still connecting the edges of the split, thinner and thinner until they finally snapped back into the mass. The grin didn't stop where a human's mouth would, stretching farther along the head than should have been possible, until it seemed it would split the entire head in two.

 

Then the tar split from the top, sliding and sloughing off until a Dipper stood there, one that had only the most superficial look of humanity to him, still with patches of black and brick work dotted across his body, and Ford was struck with the realization that he had been truly blind, to have every thought the demon was taking control of Dipper when this, this was what his demon looked like when set free.

 

Because while he looked mostly like Dipper, subtle things were off. The length of the hands, the width of the mouth, the posture...but above all, the eyes. The eyes that were cold and dark and hard, looking at the two of them with calculation and nothing resembling love or even affection.

 

And looking at those eyes, Ford was suddenly unsure they were going to be able to do this.

 

Or that everyone was going to get out of this. Acacia was already injured, and it suddenly looked like she wasn't going to be the worst off.

 

“Wel̡l, we̶ll, w̛ell, l͝ook w̧ho f̵inally ̧came o̢u͠t͡ ͞to̸ p͢la͡y,” the demon said, hungrily eying the two men. “And ̡h͡e̷r͘e ҉I tho̕ug̸ht̨ you͡ w̛e͝r̕e̸ ͟go̢ing̷ ͝t̵o͠ h͜ide̶ in the ḩous̕e̴ ͜forev̨e҉r.”

 

Ford and Stan looked at each other, weapons at the ready, but didn't respond to the taunting. Not yet.

 

“Are͟ y̡ou̕ ̶go̕n͞n͡a̴ s͝hoo͠t̨ m͝e?͝” the demon said mockingly. “D͝o͢ ͏y͠o͘u̢ really̨ ̢th̨in҉k t̶ho͏şe͘ ar͝e g͘on͏na̕ ͜h̛u̵r̷t m̛e?̷ ҉G͢o̸ ahe̢a̢d,” he taunted, spreading his arms. “S̡h͜o͟o͏t̢ ͏me.҉ P̷a̴i͠n is hi͘l̢a͡r͞i̶o͟us.҉ ͝A̢n̷d̶ ͘if ̡it͡ ͡works,͏ ̴yo̕u ͘never ̶get͟ y̶ou̸r̴ ̛l̶itt͏l̛e͏ Dip̢pe̛r̢ ̛b̕ac͞k. ͟Win̶-̕wi͘n̸ ͏f͢o͞r me .”

 

“What do you mean?” Ford said, fairly sure he knew the answer but needing to hear it.

 

The demon smirked. “We ̷a͏ll͘ know̕ ̡wh̸y̸ by͝ now҉.̕ N͟o ̕D͞įp͢per̛ mea͏ns no Lo̡v҉e. N͢o͝ Fa͟m͝ily. No͝ stu̷p͠i̡d͟ ͢h̢uma͟n̴ w͞ea͢k̡ne͢ss҉e̵s ͠ho͞ldin͜g ̸m̨e ͞b͝a͢c̴k. I͝'̷m͢ more̕ ̕po̧wer͠f͠ul ̕t̨ha̡n͝ ͞Bi̸ll ȩve͞r w̕a͟s ͠a͝lrea͞d͡y̵,̵ ̛an͠d I͡ w̕il̷l̨ be͠ mo͘r̢e pow͞e̸rful t͝h͞e͟ ̸o͜ld̶er I a̷m. B͡ųt͢ ͏Lo͘v͏e.͢ ͢Loya͞l͏ty. N͟o ͟dem̛on sh͢ould͘ ̵hav̨e̕ ̛tho͏s̶e.̧ ͡The̛y k͏ee̷p me w̶e͢ak. ̴I w̢ill̸ ͢nơt̷ be ͜w͘e͜aken͡ed by h̕um̸a͝n f̧rai͢ļty!” he declared, snarling.

 

Ford leaned closer to his brother. “That long talk we need to have just got shorter,” he whispered. “Remember this moment, because it's going to be a long time before you hear it again, but I was wrong.”

 

“That's the first time I've heard you say that without a but coming after it,” Stan grunted. “Not now.”

 

“The͠re͜ is͞n͜'͞ţ ̶g̸oing ̵to̧ be a̸ l̡at̷er͜,” the demon snarled. “T̶he u̴n̸i̕c͟orn ha͏i͝r won̡'̛t̴ ̷hol̸d̸ f͞or҉e̢ver .” He paused, holding up a hand to inspect the claws on it. “So̕ why noţ s̶av̸e ͡a͟ li̕t͞t͘le͞ tim̡e,͞ ju҉s̶t t̸e̵l͞l me̛ ̵whe̢r͜e҉ th̸e͢ o͘ther̸ ͜asp͘ect͞s ͜an̕ḑ famil͟y̢ are.̧ I͢'̢l̨l ̶e͝ven̸ ͜m̸ake yo͞u͠ ̵a d͞e̛al͟ a͡nd l̴e͢t ͞yoư d͞e̡cid̴e͘ ͜which o͏n̢e̡ I ̧t̵a̡k͠e̷ o̵u͡t҉. Ma̕ke͠ ̶įt g̛oo͝d͢ eno͜u͜g͞h,͘ and I'l̶l͡ e̵ve̢n͜ ͞be ͝ni͢c͢e ͟eno̴ugh t͟o҉ m͘ake̸ ͜it q͏u̡ick.”

 

“Don͠'̵t ̡b̡e ҉f͠oolis̶h҉,͜,” the demon added when they didn't reply. “W̶e ̕a͏ll know y̵ou'd͝ ̵get rid o͘f m͜e ̵in ͘an ̸instanţ ̸if ̛y͢o͘u͞ ͟th̴ought̵ you ̶co̵u̵ld get͜ aw̡ay w҉ith ̛it. ͜I͠'m jus͞t ̶ret͞ur̷ni̵ng the ͡favor. You͜ ͘giv͏e ͏me ͢an҉ asp̕e͠ct͏, ͡an͟d͞ ̨I ļet ͞y͏ou l̸ive ͝in the Sh҉a͜ck w̨i̧tho̧ưt ̴b҉ei̶ng҉ bǫth̢e̵red.̷ ͏It̵'҉s ̶t͏he best̴ d̷e̶al̛ ̷y̴o̸u'r͠e g͟oi̴n̕g ͠to͟ g͞et .”

 

There was a slam from inside the house and Mabel came storming out, shoving her way between her grunkles. Her hand was raised, and her mouth was moving, ready to start a blistering lecture, when she stumbled and fell outside the boundaries of the unicorn hair circle.

 

With a gleeful grin, the demon lunged forward, faster than Ford and Stan who were trying to grab her in time, only to be stopped when there was a bright flash of light.

 

The demon jerked back with a hiss, clutching at his forearm. “I alm̛ost b̢roke ͘my ͟arm̶!” he hissed, and it was as much an accusation as a statement, almost scandalized.

 

In the doorway behind the two men, watching as they dragged Mabel back into the safety of the circle, were the rest of the aspects and family, plan forgotten as they followed Mabel.

 

Love crawled out to perch on the roof, smugness radiating out from where they perched, though it was Conspiracy that spoke. “You may be powerful here, more powerful than usual since you're not wrapped up in us, but you're still not the most powerful thing here,” he said.

 

The demon snarled in response, still cradling his arm.

 

“What's wrong, I thought pain was hilarious?” Darkness called, joining Love on the porch roof.

 

“It̛ ̷i͜s̕,̕” the demon hissed, “b̶ut̢ not when i͟t i͝n̵te̡rf͏eres wi̶th ͝destr̴o̷y̧ing ͡yo̷u!͠ ”

 

And he lunged.

 


	24. Chapter 24

The aspects and humans alike scattered, despite evidence that the demon couldn't pass through the barrier of unicorn hair.

 

And Acacia and Willow, Innocence and Mischief tumbled out of the protective barrier.

 

The demon landed, claws drawing furrows in the dirt as he spun and lunged at the aspects.

 

Acacia and Willow were dragged back into the circle by their brother and wife and parents as the aspects dodged the attack, driven farther from the house.

 

The demon paused, and everyone within the house could see him eying up both Innocence and Mischief, making a decision, before striking out at Innocence.

 

Darkness threw himself between Innocence and the demon, landing on all fours to hiss at the demon of himself as only a demon could, as a cat would, a sound that no human throat could imitate.

 

The two circled each other, still hissing, watching for an opening.

 

Their circling brought them back towards the Shack, closer and closer, until Ford threw himself out of the protection of the circle to the sound of the shocked cries of his family.

 

His arms latched around Darkness' waist and they were hauled back by the family, the demon's claws tearing strips from the bottom of Ford's coat as they disappeared inside the circle.

 

Ford lay on his back on the porch with Darkness sprawled on top of him, breathing heavily and staring blankly at the porch roof.

 

“This is going to be more difficult than anticipated,” he said.

 

* * *

 

They were back to a standoff, as the demon stared at them all from outside the circle, the circle none of them were sure would hold as long as they needed it too.

 

“We can't keep this up forever,” Ford said, still sprawled on his back.

 

“Ţh̛a͢t͠'̧s͞ right, ͟you̷ ̵can'̵t,” the demon snarled.

 

And with that, he began to grow. And grow. He grew until he was the size of the house, until he was bigger than the house.

 

“Everyone, inside!” Ford shouted, grabbing up Love and Innocence, and human and aspect alike copied him, grabbing the gentler aspects and fleeing into the building.

 

The door slammed behind them, cutting off the worst of the noise, though they could still hear the demon's attempts to get inside.

 

“Why can't he...” Ford began to ask, cut off by Darkness.

 

“Because everyone believes it's strong enough, and in this place, that's enough, so don't go questioning it now,” he snapped. “We really can't do this much longer.”

 

“Then maybe it's time we went back together.” A tiny aspect poked their head out of the rafters, looking down at them. It crawled down the wall to where Ford was standing with Darkness, looking at him solemnly before leaning against him.

 

“Who...?”

 

“Hope. I'm Dipper's Hope. Hope that things will get better, for things to happen that are good, for the future. The part that keeps giving family second and third and fourth chances, that this time it'll go better. And I think it's time we reformed into Dipper.”

 

“Why were you hiding?” one of the aspects asked.

 

“You've seen what's outside, would you have come out any sooner?” Hope said simply.

 

Love dropped down next to Hope, and the two looked over the rest of the aspects, who nodded one by one, Darkness last of all.

 

“Aspect huddle,” Hope said. “Let's figure this out.”

 

* * *

 

Ford paced as they waited on the aspects, once again gathered in the kitchen. There was little else he could do.

 

The other people left behind weren't doing much better. None of them did well with having to wait for someone else to do the planning and the work.

 

Each of them fretted in their own way, even if some of those ways looked calm as could be while some looked to be holding onto their tempers with effort, and all the time outside the demon continued to rage and tear and pound at the shield keeping them safe.

 

Ford wondered if the demon could get in here even if he did manage to get through. This was Dipper's sanctuary, that belief should keep them safe in here no matter what else should happen.

 

The voices in the kitchen were growing louder, until Survival Instinct's rang out over the rest...at least, Ford assumed it was Survival Instinct. Being aspects of Dipper, they all spoke with his voice, but there were slight variations to some of them – the aspects that looked like children spoke with the voice Dipper had when he was twelve the first time around, while others had a tendency to speak sharply or weakly or the like depending on their nature.

 

“If this doesn't work, you'd be bringing _Him_ right into the middle of our Sanctuary!” the aspect protested.

 

“And if we don't try something, we'll be stuck like this forever, and so will our family and our home!” another argued back.

 

“How about you fill us in and let us vote on it?” Lucy Ann asked, sliding down from the couch to cross her arms, tapping a tiny foot impatiently.

 

Hope, Love, and Darkness came to the front of the aspects, floating in a row as they faced their family. Innocence, the Dipper from that summer before the Transcendence, was still off to the side of the rest of the aspects, having remembered what happened but still barely able to believe it was real.

 

“We want to summon the demon,” Darkness said bluntly. “All of us as part of the circle. Trap him in the circle so he can't run and he can't attack us, so we can merge back together.”

 

There was a chorus of protest, nearly every one of them a variation on the same theme: there wasn't a circle that could hold Dipper for long, maybe not even long enough for this.

 

“We were held during the Scouring,” an aspect pointed out.

 

“They were using Willow as collateral,” Mabel argued back.

 

“Only to a point,” another aspect pointed out. “After that their bindings held.”

 

“If anyone can make a circle that can bind Dipper, it's Dipper,” Arrogance pointed out. “No one knows our weaknesses when it comes to bindings like we do.” He gestured to the graph paper Conspiracy had brought with him, now covered in formulas and circles. “See our plan closer before dismissing it.”

 

“Unless you have another idea?” Darkness said.

 

“There has to be one that doesn't involve letting the demon into the one sure sanctuary we have,” Ford protested. “I trust Dipper,” he said when the room turned to look at him, “When you're Dipper. But right now we all know the demon isn't thinking like Dipper, since all the parts that control him are here in this room.”

 

“There's always the basement,” Mabel said thoughtfully. “It's warded against Bill, isn't it, Great Uncle Ford?”

 

“And can be warded more?” Hank added. “Sorry, but, well...”

 

Darkness was the one to wave the question off. “We know the part of Dipper we're dealing with here better than anyone else. The aspects that usually control him are all here, after all. I'm practically one of the ones you want to ward against.”

 

“Let's get started, then,” Ford declared, making his way to the vending machine and hesitating for a brief moment before punching in the code. “We've got a lot to get done to make sure it works this time.”

 

* * *

 

It took time to set everything up to the aspects' exacting standards. But this was one time they needed to go along with it, or risk the demon getting loose.

 

Ford and a few of the aspects were still arguing over the circle and wardings – Ford was arguing to put in a few things that had worked against Bill and other demons, while the Dippers didn't want to waste time.

 

Henry had to intervene, urging Dipper to let Ford add the things 'just in case', a ruling the Dippers took with little grace but then proceeded to listen to eagerly as Ford described just what he was thinking.

 

It was like a benediction, a hope he hadn't quite dared hold, to Ford, to be able to work like this with his nephew, to have the core aspects of the boy's personality trusting him with this sensitive information, to be working alongside his brother as they hadn't since the last major emergency.

 

It took a bit to find something to make a circle. They didn't quite want to make it with chalk, though that was the traditional way to create one. There was still a high chance of it getting smudged with so many of them in the room where there had once been a portal (it being the largest space that wasn't crowded with furniture or equipment in Ford's once work space).

 

In the end, they carved it into the floor with what they had around them, screwdrivers and demon fire and bits of metal from lab and dismantled portal, etching it as deeply as they could into the floor without losing details.

 

This wasn't Dipper's usual circle. That was for family, for friends, and he could leave it easily by now.

 

This was a proper binding circle, one made by aspects of Dipper, made to hold Dipper and likely the only one in the world that could hold his demon as long as necessary.

 

Mabel looked down at the circle, more complicated than anything the family had drawn before, even the few times they had been forced to bind Dipper. Most of those had been for him to practice with, certainly, but there had been a time or two...

 

Mabel crossed her arms, staring down the aspects who had created this circle. “There a reason you know how to make a circle strong enough to permanently bind you? Beyond being a total nerd?”

 

The aspects in questions shuffled and scratched at the backs of their heads and played with their hats, muttering a chorus of, “Not really,” and “Pretty much that,” and “Maybe?” depending on which they were.

 

Mabel continued to start them down for another uncomfortable minute before shrugging. “All right then.”

 

She turned to the rest of her family. “Guess we're ready to summon us a demon.”

 

Many of them were pale – they knew, better than anyone, just what Dipper was capable of, even if he tried to hide it from them, even if people thought they had only seen the human side of Dipper, they had seen, had heard exactly what Dipper could do when he lost himself for just a few minutes. To have a Dipper that was all demon, that couldn't be reasoned with or woken back up, that was more dangerous than Dipper had ever been before.

 

Pale or not, each girded themselves for battle in their own way and moved to the positions they had been assigned.

 

Despite there being more aspects than humans, the aspects made up the inner circle around the binding circle, a shoulder to shoulder wall between the binding circle and the humans.

 

The humans were in the order of the zodiac that they had intended to use during Weirdmaggeddon, the one that had ultimately failed through human error. There were people missing from the original zodiac, people here who hadn't had a place on it originally or who hadn't been alive then to fill in the gaps as well as they could.

 

And they were using the people whose symbols were on Dipper's circle, as close as they could, to fill in those gaps.

 

The nightmares filled in between the people in the outer circle, flanking the person they had accompanied here.

 

It wasn't perfect, but the binding circle was, prepared by the aspects who knew their weaknesses, who knew the demon's, who knew the circle that would do it.

 

They had little enough for a sacrifice, only what they could find in the Shack. It, along with the strength of their call, would have to be enough.

 

It was time to get Dipper back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought originally this would be the last chapter - as usual, I was wrong. Still working on the ending, but I'm pretty sure some of you noticed that I've gotten some inspiration from your comments, so thank you! :) I'll have to look up to comments to be able to give individual thanks.


	25. Chapter 25

The combination of all of the aspects, all of the people Dipper cared about, all of his nightmares reciting his summoning chant in unison was too good for the demon to ignore, despite the lackluster sacrifice (a few drops of blood from Acacia, a few odds and ends found in pockets and the room, not enough for the demon even if the blood alone, being from a nibling, would have been enough to draw Dipper into the physical world in a rush).

 

Besides, it wasn't like anyone else was going to summon the demon anytime soon, given they were all trapped inside this combination of mindscape and Gravity Falls, the price of being separated.

 

He appeared in the circle in a spiral of smoke, in a fountain of sparks, more brutal and efficient than Dipper's usual showy entrances. He was already smirking, a taunt ready on his lips over the summoning, over the sacrifice, over bringing him into the heart of their sanctuary that he couldn't have entered on his own, when the binding circle hit him and his eyes went wide.

 

With a screech of rage that shattered glass and nearly sent everyone tumbling away from the circle, each of them held upright by the nightmares, the demon flung himself at the edge of the binding circle.

 

It sent up sparks where he hit it, and the demon backed away from it with a hiss. He snarled softly, furiously, before tossing his head and smirking again.

 

“F҉ine. ̧Y͡o͟u̧'̕v̡e c̨a̧u̴gh͡t̡ ͜m̵e. ̴N͝o͘w w̢hat? T̵h͡ęr̨e'͢s no ̷sa̧cri̸fi͢ce҉, no͞ dea͠l̸ y̶ou̷ ̸can ̸o͞f͞fer͏ t̢h͜at c͞an ̧ma͝ke me͏ ̡a҉gr̡e͏e t͏o͜ ref҉ǫrm̡ ̛wi̕t̶h ͞a͡ll of t̴h̵em,” the demon said, crossing his arms and floating back to the center of the circle, as far as he could get from the edges.

 

The aspects glanced at each other, and the demon laughed, a sound almost as terrible as his scream. “Yo̵u ̵didn'̷t̛ plan̛ ̕for ̛ţh̸at̶,͢ d͠i͘d̴ ͟y̶ou? Or̵ ͟w̡as ̨i҉t jus͟t͝ ͝t̛alk ̶all ͢t̷h̢is ̕t͘ime,̧ thi̕s idea of̵ being ̶Di͜pper̢ ̸a͟gai̴n?̴ I̕ kn̕ow m͟ost o͟f you҉ don͞'t w҉a̴nt͡ to .”

 

The demon's smirk grew as only some aspects protested. “T͘h͡a̛t͟'s ŗigh҉t.҉ D͞arkn͡ess̕, you d͞on͝'͞t͞ ̷wa̛n͘t to go̵ ̛back͞,̷ do̧ ̨y̴ou͠? ͡To ͠be ҉s҉e͜cond t̶o͝ ̶th͜a̧t f̴rai̴l,̸ h͜u͟m͞an͝ ͘lo͏v͟e i̕n p̸o̵w̸e͘r͝ a̸g̛ai͝n? Surv͟įva͘l̢ Ins̸t͏inct,͟ L̵o͜v̢e ͠k҉e̴ȩps̴ shǫv͘i͟n͢g͟ ̨y͘ơu ̡d͢ow҉n ̨an͏d put̷t̸ing Dipper ͠i̛n̛ d͜anger. B͏lo͘odlus͡t, An̡gęr̸, Sp̢ite͟?” he counted off, head turning while his body remained stationary, counting off aspect after aspect, continuing until he reached Darkness again.

 

The demon floated closer to the edge of the circle, careful to keep well away from the lines, leaning forward until he was as close as he could get to it, to Darkness.

 

“I͢t̡ ̵fe̵e͘ls g͜ood, ̧do͠es̡n't͜ ̷it?” he said floating around the circle to stare down the aspects. “Be͢ing free̡ ̨o҉f̛ all th͘o̶s̶e m͜o͠r͟ta҉l e̸x̧pecta̕t̶įon̕s. ͝W̢hy ͟would͞ ͟y͝ou͢ e͢ver̨ ̨wa̵nt t͟o ̵go̢ b̸a̧ck?”

 

“Would you stop that?” Acacia demanded angrily. “Come on, all of you, would you stop listening to him and go back together already?”

 

“It's always hard to ignore the demon,” Darkness said softly, not turning away from the demon, who was looking back at Darkness silently. “Sometimes he'll be quiet for weeks at a time but he always comes back. He's not always so blatant. Sometimes he sounds so reasonable.”

 

“We love the power but hate what he wants for it,” Bloodlust added. “I wouldn't be so strong it if weren't for him.”

 

“Thi͜s is̷n͢'̸t ab҉ơuţ ̵y͟ou,̵ so͘ ̴şt̸a͟y ̨o͠ut͏ ͢of͘ ̴it,̡ ͝li͡tt̛lȩ girl,” the demon added.

 

And the aspects all snarled at him.

 

“It's always been about them,” Remorse said, still mournful but no longer despairing.

 

“Everything we've done, everything we do, it's all about them,” another snapped.

 

“We're wasting time,” Darkness said sharply. “It's been good to get it all off my chest but the longer we're apart the worse I want to do and the less I want to be Dipper again. We need to get back together before I do something we all regret.”

 

The aspects the demon had singled out earlier grumbled or snarled or nodded morose agreement to that statement as the demon spun within the circle, seeking a way out, an ally, an angle.

 

“D͝o̷ ͘you͘ r̛ea͞l̸ļy̶ ͞t͞hi̡n̛k̡ ̨p͘e͡op͠le a̶re ̢going͞ ̸t̴o ̛f̶orgive͏ Dippe̡r for͘ th̶is̴?” the demon snarled. “Lo͟ok wḩat̷ ͟ḩe ͝di͟d͢ ͡to G͜r̢a̢vity Fa͞lls! ͜No͟ on̢e çan͡ f͝o͘rg͘iv͡e th͠i͏s̸!”

 

“Gravity Falls is here and they want you to stop talking already,” Hank chimed in, looking to his side, where the nightmares avoided as if someone stood there. With all the power from the demon crackling through the air, the space there shimmered like a heat haze, vaguely forming the shape of a person. “And they say not to be ridiculous, they've forgiven worse than this.”

 

Hank glanced around at the rest of his family as he spoke, curious why they weren't speaking up yet. Usually they would have been far more outspoken than this.

 

It seemed most of them had come to the same conclusion he had early on in this summoning – much as they wanted to demand Dipper get his crap together, the only one who could do that was Dipper. They could urge all they wanted, but it had to be Dipper's choice, so it was going to have to be the aspects choosing it, not being forced into it.

 

But now that Hank and Gravity Falls had weighed in, and the demon was temporarily silenced, they were beginning to speak up.

 

Their arguments and encouragements merged into a wall of sound, and the demon smirked as the aspects seemed to shrink under it all, their conflicting desires fighting each of them.

 

“We have no future this way,” Hope said, and his voice cut through the babble, silencing everyone as they turned to look at him. “We're just existing. And barely at that. There's too much for us in the future to stay like this.”

 

“This is ridiculous. We're just spinning in circles,” Spite snapped. “We all know it!” he said, sharper still, when a few aspects began to protest. “We do this all the time when we're together. We all agreed it was time before we summoned that one, and now look!”

 

Darkness and Love looked at each other across the circle, then over their shoulders at their family. Darkness met Ford's eyes and spoke. “I want to be separate. The demon's right, I'm tired of always being second to Love.” He turned back to look at Love, refusing to look at the devastation in Ford's eyes. “But I want, I need, to be part of Dipper more.”

 

“We're doing this, and we're doing it now,” Love announced.

 

“L̨̛͞i͝ke̶̢ ̸̡h͡͠e̢lļ̢ ̵͝I̶͢ ̵am̷͢!” the demon shrieked, making a lunge at the edge of the circle. His claws threw sparks up on the inside of the circle as they skidded across its surface, leaving the glow that had sprung up solidly as a wall with deep rents across it.

 

The people nearest that section of circle – Melody, Pacifica, and Reina – fell back with shouts and screams.

 

The aspects in front of them shouted in anger, throwing themselves closer together to protect the humans. They collided painfully and paused, still tangled, looking at each other before nodding.

 

Dork and Inner Mabel, Mischief and Fear of Rejection, Uncle and Insecurity threw their arms around each other, clinging tight. A golden glow flickered into existence around them as the pairs turned black and liquid, merging into each other until where there had been six were three, who threw themselves at each other and merged into one.

 

Around the circle, other aspects watched it happen, and, when it was done, turned to each other. While the demon trapped in the circle continued to rage and strike out at the circle, cursing and swearing he would not be dragged back into that prison, the aspects began to merge again with each other.

 

Trust No One and Remorse, Adventurer and Anger, Survival Instinct and Conspiracy Theorist, Childishness and Horror and Spite and Curiosity and Bloodlust and Vanity and Arrogance, pair by pair they turned to each other and merged into one, those turning to each other and merging again, over and over again until Innocence, Darkness, Love, and the Demon were the only separate aspects to remain, a blank-eyed, faintly transparent Dipper hovering by Innocence.

 

Innocence looked over at his family, eyes passing over everyone until he came to Stan, his eyes lingering on Ford and Willow, traveling slowly to Hank and Acacia, to Mabel and Henry before he nodded slowly and reached to Dipper, sliding into the hovering Dipper like a drop of water returning to a pond, silent and easy. Dipper grew that much more solid, that much more awake.

 

Across the circle, Darkness and Love continued to watch each other. Darkness had, for all his help in understanding how to bring them all together, been the most reluctant, the most vocal about his unwillingness to reform, second only to the demon.

 

Love pushed off the ground lightly, copied by Darkness, the pair floating upward until they could see each other over the demon's head.

 

Love reached out to Darkness. “For family?” he asked softly.

 

Darkness looked down at the family Dipper had found, surrounding them still, his eyes traveling the path Innocence's had so recently taken, lingering on Ford, who met those eyes levelly, reaching over the nightmares for his brother, who was already reaching back.

 

Darkness smiled faintly, taking a deep breath before looking back to Love. “You always do win, in the end,” he said, equally soft. “For family.”

 

The two touched, and small lights began to circle them, starting from their feet and spinning upward until they were nearly cocooned in a shroud of spinning threads of light. Below, the demon screeched again as the light from their merging reached him and Dipper, beginning to pull them all together.

 

Above the demon, Darkness and Love were merging, slower than the others had, in light instead of in darkness, visible until they were almost fully merged, the lights swirling around them faster and faster until they were too bright to look at.

 

The nearly whole Dipper was drawn up into the light and disappeared into it.

 

The light faded, and Dipper hovered there, eyes closed, limbs loose as he bobbed, ever so slightly, above the circle.

 

Then his eyes opened, the glow from before shining through them, and he looked down at the demon below.

 

The demon snarled up at the almost reformed Dipper and crouched low, claws digging into the cement floor, secured now and unmoving now that the light had faded.

 

Around them, the circle of family and nightmares closed tighter, pressed so tightly together, so tightly they could hardly move.

 

The nearly complete Dipper raised a hand and the lights formed again, around both Dipper and the demon.

 

And the demon began to be drawn towards Dipper.

 

“N͞͡ǫ̸!” the demon screeched, claws leaving furrows in the cement as the light dragged him towards the rest of Dipper. “N̶͏o! ͜I͜ ̵̢w҉o̧n̡͞'̷̛t͏ ̛͡b̸͡e̵͝ ̡̕tr͢͞a̶̴p҉̸͜p͏ed͘҉ ͟a̛g̶a͘̕͝i͝n͘͢!”

 

Inch by inch the demon was dragged closer and closer to the fusion, fighting for every millimeter.

 

“Y̧ou ca͡n't͢ get r̢i̴d͡ ̛o̢f͡ me,” the demon snarled, glaring at Dipper's family. “I'͡l̡ļ alwa͘ys be̡ there͡.̢ He ̡c͢a̸n͟ ͢fight̕ ̛a̢nd ̵fi͘gh̸t b͢ut ͠s̵oon͞er o͝r͟ ͡la͏ter he̸'̕s ͘go͏in͢g̡ ̢t̴o͟ ҉s̛li͜p ̸up͜ and ̵I'͢l̛l be͢ i̡n ̛c͟o͝n͘t͡rol̴ aga͘in!”

 

“Get ready for a long wait,” Ford snapped, “because we're not giving up on him!”

 

Mabel stepped closer, still outside the circle but with only the thickness of its golden glow to separate her from the demon. “Get back in there and give me my brother back,” she said sternly, in the voice developed over years of dealing with her brother, the demon, who could temper the demon more than they had realized.

 

The demon snarled at her, sliding back another inch. He tried to lunge at Mabel and the motion loosened his grip, claws coming loose from the floor, and he was drawn upwards.

 

He screamed and fought the entire way, but there was nothing to grab onto now, no way to prevent himself from being drawn upwards.

 

There was a flash of light, brighter than ever before, and a silent explosion that knocked everyone off their feet. Gravity let go, the world shifting to the right in an abrupt, hard shock to the system, and gravity resumed, sending everyone smacking down onto the floor.

 

* * *

 

Mabel recovered first, levering herself up onto her elbows. She shoved her hair out of her face, spitting out the bits that had made their way into her mouth.

 

The nightmares were gone, was the first thing she noticed as she looked around. The second she noticed was how the colors were back to normal, and the room looked as it had the last time she had seen it – clean, all the parts of the once-portal cleared away and boxed up or reused, not scattered around the room as they had been not ten minutes ago.

 

The only thing that remained from a few minutes ago were the circles carved into the floor, and in the center, a slumped bundle of fabric that was transparent and growing more by the second.

 

Her brother.

 

Mabel forced herself to her feet, stumbling over to where her brother lay, ignoring the circles underfoot. The toe of her shoe caught in one of the grooves and she stumbled, landing on her hands and knees next to Dipper.

 

He opened an eye, exhausted, and reached for her. “Hey,” he said, and Mabel winced. Dipper sounded as if he had been gargling rocks, and she said as much.

 

Dipper scowled at her weakly before sticking out his tongue. He sobered an instant later as she took his hand. “Sorry,” he said weakly. “Can't stay physical. Too tired.”

 

“You're already in the mindscape, aren't you?” Mabel asked. Sometimes she couldn't tell, these days.

 

Dipper nodded, and Mabel took a deep breath. “Okay, you rest, bro bro. We'll start cleaning up, but later, we're calling you up and we're going to talk.”

 

“You need rest too,” Dipper protested. Mabel summoned up a grin as, around them, their family started getting up, groaning and protesting.

 

“We'll get some,” she promised. “Go lie with your sheep for a bit. We're having that talk later, and you're not getting out of it this time, mister.”

 

Dipper smiled at her, the circles under his eyes prominent in ways they hadn't been since he'd been alive, and flickered away, off to his Flock.

 

Mabel sat back on her heels and looked around the basement. Dipper was right, cleaning themselves up and getting some rest came first.

 

Then came the hard stuff, even compared to what had already happened.

 

* * *

 

Cleanup turned out to be surprisingly easy.

 

Most of the damage had been to things that disappeared when Dipper's mindscape disconnected from the physical realm, and though that made most of them worry about Dipper's state of mind, it did make things that much easier for everyone else.

 

Some of it, like the barricades in front of Candy and Grenda's shops, did have to be cleaned up, but things like the platform Hank had found in the town square, the hospital Pacifica had gone through, the out of control forest, were gone or back to normal.

 

Mabel sat down on a bench next to her middle child, whose knee hadn't quite recovered yet and who had been literally benched by his not-a-mafia as they helped with the few parts of cleanup that were necessary.

 

“Hear from Gravity Falls yet?” she asked. “Since everything went back.”

 

“Just for a second,” he answered, still leaning against the back of the bench, his head tilted back in the sunlight. “I think they'll be okay. They need to recover too.”

 

Mabel hummed, mirroring her son's posture.

 

“Is Uncle Dipper gonna be okay?” her son asked, suddenly sounding much younger than he really was, and Mabel sighed.

 

“I dunno,” she answered, honestly. “But we're not letting him go without a fight.”

 

Hank nodded, as if that was the answer he had been expecting, and they were quiet again as around them, Gravity Falls rebuilt.

 

* * *

 

At the Library, Ford looked down at the circle he'd drawn.

 

The Family Circle, as it was called. The simplest version of it. He wasn't on it, but then, he didn't really have a right to be, he thought. Not when he hadn't been there for the twins when they needed family the most.

 

It was a call, Stan had explained. A tug on the sleeve, a gentle invitation, something Dipper could ignore if he wasn't ready to talk to someone. He was waiting in the next room in case something went wrong, but otherwise was leaving Ford to do this himself.

 

There was no formal invocation, so Ford swallowed hard and called Dipper's name, asking if he could come talk.

 

To Ford's surprise, Dipper did appear in the circle. Dipper looked exhausted still, shoulders slumped and circles under his eyes.

 

“I'll make this quick, you need more rest,” Ford said when Dipper simply hovered and stared. “I'm sorry, Dipper. I wanted to protect our family, but I hurt you in the process. All I can offer is my apologies.”

 

Dipper summoned up a smile. “I kind of get why you did it. I remember the things my aspects saw and heard...and said. I should apologize for what some of them said to you.”

 

“I think I needed to hear some of it,” Ford said frankly. “It doesn't make things easier, but I understand better now, I think.

 

“And I understand why you did it. I really do, Uncle Ford. I'd do anything to protect our family,” Dipper said, scrubbing at his face.

 

“Come here,” Ford said, opening his arms, and Dipper drifted into them. Ford held his nephew tight as Dipper buried his face in his sweater, and he ignored the faint sting of demon tears. “I finally do understand, Dipper. I really do.”

 

A simple apology and hug weren't going to be enough. They weren't all it would take.

 

There was going to be a lot of talking needed, to purge everything Dipper had been going through these past few months, a lot of poking to get stubborn, hurting Dipper to let those wounds heal.

 

That was later, when they were all rested, when they were all ready, even if Dipper might have claimed he would never be ready.

 

But it was a start.

 

And in its own way, a simple hug and an apology was enough to start another set of wounds between twins and two wounded hearts held by uncle and nephew towards healing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, can hardly believe this is actually finished. It's such a strange feeling, when a project yuo've worked on for so long is suddenly complete. There were times I honestly wasn't sure I was going to manage it. I've never written something like this before, where a character is split into parts of their personality. Thank you to everyone who came with me on this trip, and a shoutout to Seiya234, who I know was very excited to see this happen. I hoped it lived up to what everyone hoped it would be. :)
> 
> I'm not sure what's coming next, I have to finish something first. My tumblr is phenyxsnest, I'll likely talk about it/be easier to reach there if anyone wants to know more. :) See you all next story!


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